Tattoos, An Irish Bard, and Mental Osmosis
For the last couple months I've been working on design ideas for my next tattoo. Well, actually, since I got my first one done four or so years ago I've been anxiously trying to decide what was next. But I've finally been closing in on some working ideas. One particular bonus is that I live with a designer who also happens to be well-tattooed, so I've been stealing creative concepts via mental osmosis.
And then last Sunday at young adults we sang one of my favourite worship songs -- Before the Throne of God Above -- and the first verse has been stuck in my head as a possibility of something I'd like to have written on my body, somehow incorporated into a design.
Even if you aren't into tattoos, I think you can appreciate the beauty of this song. It's simple, but it gives me goosebumps every time I hear it -- and I wanted to share the experience.
(The problem with this one is that it doesn't flow so well as a stand-alone poem, and tattoos don't come with soundtracks.)
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The next choice on my list is one of my favourite poems, "He Wishes For the Cloths of Heaven" by W.B. Yeats:
But fear not for me, my friends -- I will be absolutely resolute in my choice/design before ink meets skin. I may be crazy, but I'm not crazy.
And then last Sunday at young adults we sang one of my favourite worship songs -- Before the Throne of God Above -- and the first verse has been stuck in my head as a possibility of something I'd like to have written on my body, somehow incorporated into a design.
Even if you aren't into tattoos, I think you can appreciate the beauty of this song. It's simple, but it gives me goosebumps every time I hear it -- and I wanted to share the experience.
Before the throne of God above
I have a strong and perfect plea.
A great high Priest whose Name is Love
Who ever lives and pleads for me.
My name is graven on His hands,
My name is written on His heart.
I know that while in Heaven He stands
No tongue can bid me thence depart.
(The problem with this one is that it doesn't flow so well as a stand-alone poem, and tattoos don't come with soundtracks.)
---
The next choice on my list is one of my favourite poems, "He Wishes For the Cloths of Heaven" by W.B. Yeats:
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,---
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
But fear not for me, my friends -- I will be absolutely resolute in my choice/design before ink meets skin. I may be crazy, but I'm not crazy.
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