Tattoos Of Us

Tattoos Of Us

I woke with a meshwork of keys pressed into my cheek. I had fallen asleep at my desk. Again.

Every time I woke up, after a scant few hours of sleep if that, I had some new impression on my body. Whatever I was lying on had taken shape on my skin.

Keyboards, pencils, assorted knickknacks -  all of these had left an after-image that was slow to fade. My lower back had a game controller. My right thigh a whisk - don’t ask. My feet an inordinate amount of legos. Something that should get most people to wake but not I.

My hobbies, my interests, my work lay scattered about my studio and I laid atop it. I never seemed to leave and so my life here had begun to impress upon me to either do so or become one with everything within the space.

My phone had slipped under my arm and left its mark there. But that’s what one gets for having a case in the shape of a rabbit. Even my shoes seemed to have filled with something so I would inevitably step on them. 

Things were not always this way. My studio didn’t use to be like this. In fact my apartment isn’t or wasn’t. I don’t know anymore. I haven’t been there in some time.

I’m avoiding it. That I’m clear on.


Today’s art is courtesy of Alejandro Rafael Perez from Aguascalientes, Mexico.

Those Freckles

Those Freckles

Honoring The Dead

Honoring The Dead