When the weather heats up and humankind sheds layers of clothing, a new canvas is revealed. During the last few months, I have sighted an unusually high number of ink blots triggering thoughts of pain and permanency.

Inked and coloured, body art now covers unusually large surfaces and locations where once they adorned smaller and less noticeable areas. While they may be pleasing to some, I see these as indelible mistakes to be regretted at some point in life.

I was once asked to photograph a colleague’s lower back tattoo while she was with child in order to record the before and after effects of stretched skin. I obliged, after she almost stripped in our office and the flash went a couple of times, much to the whispers outside. She never returned to work for the ‘after’ shots nor did I get in touch for another photo shoot.

Recently I learned the purpose of the lower back Celtic or tribal tattoo. The man, who was kind enough to allow me five minutes in his brain, was quick to correct when I suggested that it was there to provide a visual stimulus or entertainment during the act, thinking that men can get easily bored. But when told me that it served a more functional purpose, not unlike that of a bank, where certain deposits are made, my response was a long drawn “ahh…”. Clearly, I failed the man-test.

As much as the sight of taut, bare and tanned skin is pleasing to the eye during the hot months, a human chalkboard covered with unusually large tattoos leaves me in search of untarnished skin where my wicked imagination can leave its own indelible marks.

Art may imitate life at present, but I cannot help but see these as ineffaceable mistakes to be regretted later when life ends up imitating art with faded ink and sagged designs.

* Photograph is a close up of a bottle of Parfums Jean-Paul Gaultier, Eau D’été