[1 hour, 2 days later]
Just when I thought all hope was lost (literally, my mind has never been so blank), an image that I reblogged on my now non-existent tumblr seeped through my mind. It was a photograph of a milk chocolate toned man who had the most interesting tribal markings. The imagery of the markings on his body just stuck in my head like glue and as my eyes were travelling around sites I came across Photographer Isabel Munoz.
The Barcelona-born photographer managed to capture what I define as beauty. Each shot is able to encompass such intensity and rhythm that it no longer feels like a normal photograph but it makes you feel present. Like you're drumming your eyes around each scar that shows on the flesh and trying to feel the contrast between the smooth skin and the rough hiccup of the marks.
The process of scarification is what is constantly thickening inside of my head as it reflects commitment and dedication to their tribe. Their tribe is part of their flesh, as if to say they are bound by blood. What fascinates me the most are the different intricate shapes, patterns that make their identity.
Why do they do this?
In ancient times, a King would reward his slave by marking his body as this was seen as royalty. Among multiple different tribes, markings are used for medical, aesthetic, religious and identity purposes. They use their bodies as art, however, in recent times these markings have declined (due to international campaigns) which is why it inspires me even greater. What will happen to their identity?
How will they celebrate? Finally, is this change slowly forcing us to trade our traditions and our identity to that of the Western world?
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