“I dream, therefore I exist”, is written in my upper back. It is a bit of a cliche, isn’t it? I was eighteen or nineteen years old, moved to a big city and felt kind of lost. I mean, who in that age would have it all figured out… My boyfriend at that time went to book a tattoo-appointment, and as impulsive as I am, I asked him to give me half an hour to come up with an idea for a tattoo for me and then I’d join him to book myself an appointment too (less of a cliche). So I did. I gave the tattoo-artist artistic freedom and it turned out a bit bigger than planned.
The whole process was a bit embarrassing from my side. I have very low tolerance for pain, and so during that one and a half hours of the chamber of torture, we had to have three small breaks, because my body was full on cramping. The guy seemed a bit annoyed and I could almost read his mind, saying “don’t take a tattoo, if you can’t handle it”. I must say, during that time I asked myself that very same question.
I have always been a bit of a dreamer. I mean, I do have my feet on the ground and I can be a very practical person, but I am always on the search of the things that “wow up” my life. At that time of my life I was definitely confused and on the search, so I felt like I needed a reminder to keep on dreaming and planning, how wonderful things could happen in my life. It gave me strength and calmed me down.
I would describe dreaming as an act to imagine, what you wish to be, to have or to do. If you don’t play with the thoughts of thinking, how would you like to live your life, how is it possible to live that way? Maybe it’s also overthinking (unfortunately I’m very good at that too), and maybe it’s better to just concentrate on the present. But I guess I will always be that person with all those thoughts running free in my head and directing my life from one place to another, from one experience to another. Who knows whether that’s a good thing or not…