tattoo me

From the Smithsonian Magazine: "This blue bowl (c. 1300 B.C.), housed in the Rijksmuseum van Oudheden in Leiden, Amsterdam, features a musician tattooed with an image of the household deity Bes on her thigh."

Okay, remember when I was going to get a tattoo? Well, I have yet to get the tattoo I wrote about before. That will be next -- now we've decided that my tattoo will be in Latin, and the tattoo of imperatrix pulcherrima Africae occidentalis will be in Arabic (her great-grandfather was an Arabic scholar).

In the meantime, something else happened. It was in April, and filius imperatricis pulcherrimae Africae occidentalis et privignus meus was up in Yonkers with the pope (and several thousand other people). IPAO called me when she got out of class at Fordham and informed me she was going to get a tattoo whether I wanted to come or not. She was right, we had been dragging our feet on this. I got on the subway, we went to the Village, and signed ourselves up for tattoos.

We had already been thinking about this. IPAO wanted to get the words "Africa, Mother of Life" on her back in Kpelle, a language spoken in Liberia that has its own script. I had planned on a verse from the Psalms that haunted me ever since I had first read it in Latin:

Ad vesperum demorabitur fletus et ad matutinum laetitia. [Psalm 29]

In the evening weeping shall have place, and in the morning gladness. [Douay-Rheims version]

Weeping may tarry for the night,
but joy comes with the morning. [RSV, Psalm 30]

(Two notes: 1) It's not actually from the Vulgate, but from the translation from the Greek Septuagint. Jerome's Vulgate psalms never caught on, since people were used to singing the other version. 2) The numbering of the Psalms is different in English and Latin -- that's why it's Psalm 30 in the RSV.)

I downloaded a font that was more or less based on the caroline script, printed up the quote from Psalm 29, and gave it to the people in the tattoo parlor. They turned it into a fake tattoo and then the artist just did the real one over it. Despite what people say, it was not that painful, though I did feel nervous trying to sit still, afraid that I might sneeze and end up with a black line all down my arm. It healed quickly and now I have finally got my tattoo -- my first tattoo. There is still the wedding tattoo for my other arm... and the Chi Rho for the shoulder... and the line from the beatitudes in Syriac I want for my lower leg... and... and...

fellowship

Thomas Aquinas, holding a wee church and a book containing his fellowship application.

I received some very good news last week. I was awarded the Dolores Quinn dissertation-writing fellowship, which means I won't have to teach next year and can concentrate on my own work. So I should be able to finish up next year -- hooray for me!

Coming soon: tattoo update.

mouse

Cats and mice, from a thirteenth-century English bestiary.

I walked into the kitchen yesterday afternoon and nearly jumped when a small brown animal dashed out from behind the dishrack and into the stove via one of the burners. Now, mice are more appealing than certain vermin one might come across in this city (New York rats usually weigh about 200 pounds and have prison tattoos), but it's not the most hygienic beast to share a home with, so I went into the bedroom to consult with the cat, where she sat calmly and regally on the bed.

"Mishea, there's a mouse in the kitchen."

She absentmindedly licked her paw.

"Are you going to do something about that?"

She yawned.

"Heck of a job, Brownie!"

She put her head down and went to sleep.

I guess we have two pets now.


(By the way, the image comes from a wonderful site called The Medieval Bestiary that looks like it can provide hours of fun and manuscript descriptions.)

(Tattoo update coming soon).

St. Akepsimas and other things Persian

St. Akepsimas.

Today is the feast of St. Akepsimas, a fourth-century Persian bishop who was martyred during the persecution of King Shapur II.

Speaking of that part of the world, it seems that Hillary Clinton is as much of a hawk as her votes on the Iraq war and the Kyle-Lieberman amendment have indicated she may be. She said today that if Iran were to attack Israel using nuclear weapons during her presidency, "we would be able to totally obliterate them." This continues what she said last week concerning the same hypothetical situation would result in "massive retaliation," which she clarified last night by saying, "their use of nuclear weapons against Israel would provoke a nuclear response from the United States."

Now, I agree that a nuclear-armed Iran is far from desirable, and I deplore Ahmadinajad's rhetoric about Israel. Still, if Iran were to have that technology and were to use it against Israel, Israel would be both capable and willing to respond itself. Iran knows this, so it's unlikely that they would attack Israel. At any rate, there's no need for a US guarantee of any sort. Even if we had to retaliate, do we want to speak so easily about "totally obliterating" a large country?

Iran has a population of 65,875,223. Almost a quarter of that is fourteen years old and under. "Totally obliterate." Makes me feel sort of sick.

Pennsylvania, are you listening?

In related news, an indignant response condemning 9/11 conspiracy theories: Al-Qaeda tells Iran to knock it off.

St. Akepsimas, pray for us.


Coming soon: tattoo update.

st anselm and six words

Today is the feast of St. Anselm of Canterbury (1033-1109), who was both a great churchman and a great theologian. I am particularly fond of his ontological argument for the existence of God. He also put forward his form of atonement theology, and although I know it hasn't been that popular in this corner of the blogosphere, and though I don't accept it fully, I still think it's brilliant intellectually and, taken in its context, should still give us food for thought.

William tagged me for the six-word meme, and I promise -- I have thought about it a little bit. Of course, the joke is that my life in six words is "dissertation, teaching, dissertation, teaching, dissertation, teaching." Apart from that, I don't know. My life has been somewhat crazy, and now the things that fill it up -- my wife and stepson, my scholarly career, my newfound devotion to God, my friends -- seem to spill out at the seams of a six-word sentence. That's not even taking into account things I have parked on the side right now, like poetry. The sad truth is that grad school leaves me very little time to reflect deeply on myself and what I am. That's okay -- I'm going through a kind of boot camp and it's almost over. But right now, my life is "dissertation, teaching, dissertation, teaching, dissertation, teaching," with an occasional break for other valuable things. I will return to this question in about a year and a half.


Coming soon: tattoo update.

tattoos -- give me your advice

A Coptic Christian in Ethiopia.

"Do not lacerate your bodies for the dead, and do not tattoo yourselves. I am the LORD."
-Leviticus 19:28

Imperatrix pulcherrima Africae occidentalis and I are giving each other tattoos as wedding presents. Yes, I know about the prohibition in Leviticus, but hey, I also trim the hair of my beard, which is forbidden by the previous verse. Most commentaries on these commandments identify them as forbidding actions involved in specific Canaanite mourning practices. In the end, I think for Christians they go the way of the dietary restrictions also found in Leviticus. Since allergy keeps me from enjoying the permission to eat shrimp, getting a tattoo will have to be my consolation prize.

We decided that we would engrave on our rings messages to each other from the Song of Songs, in Latin. My ring will have "dilectus meus mihi et ego illi" -- "My lover belongs to me and I to him" [Songs 2:15]. Her small ring has only enough room for "tota pulchra es" -- "You are all-beautiful" [Songs 4:7]. We thought then we would each have a tattoo of a longer version of our message.

This is where I need your advice, oh loyal sententites. Where shall I get it? In what form? How many words? I'm thinking of either the upper arm or the shoulder. I'm more inclined to the former, because I want to be able to see it. If I put it on my arm, should it be a band or more like a paragraph? Should there be a frame?

Finally, how much should I put? I like this verse and the two following. Should I put all of it? Excerpts? Let me give you all three verses in Latin, then the Douay-Rheims translation (from the Latin), then the New American version:

[tota pulchra es] amica mea et macula non est in te//

veni de Libano sponsa veni de Libano veni coronaberis de capite Amana de vertice Sanir et Hermon de cubilibus leonum de montibus pardorum//

vulnerasti cor meum soror mea sponsa vulnerasti cor meum in uno oculorum tuorum et in uno crine colli tui

[Thou art all fair,] O my love, and there is not a spot in thee.//

Come from Libanus, my spouse, come from Libanus, come: thou shalt be crowned from the top of Amana, from the top of Sanir and Hermon, from the dens of the lions, from the mountains of the leopards.//

Thou hast wounded my heart, my sister, my spouse, thou hast wounded my heart with one of thy eyes, and with one hair of thy neck. [D-R]

[You are all-beautiful,] my beloved,
and there is no blemish in you.//

Come from Lebanon, my bride,
come from Lebanon, come!
Descend from the top of Amana,
from the top of Senir and Hermon,
From the haunts of lions,
from the leopards' mountains.//

You have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride;
you have ravished my heart with one glance of your eyes,
with one bead of your necklace. [NAB]

Let me hear what you think.