Included in the box - by Mehrdad Riyahi
The flesh has been hailed as our soul’s temple; as any temple, it has a right to be revered, to be attended to and respected and kept clean, pure in all implications. It has been denounced as worthless; meat on the market, a tool, a machine, a slave’s costume. It has served as a hanger for society’s latest fashions and styles; an artistic fusion of expression by body painters and piercers, in tattoo parlors, during the scarring ceremonies of tribes; an emblem of identity with the donning of uniforms, ethnic costumes, and clothing; a flag of identity, skin stained in various international colors and styled by many climates.
The body, like anything else known to man, is open to perspective. The sight is in the eye of the beholder; or, more likely, in the mind—for that is the alpha and omega of our consciousness. For only one thing is certain. Your body is what you make of it. You determine its classification, its multi-dimensionality, its illusion of timelessness despite its ephemeral nature.
Revere it as your communication channel with the world, with fingers to brush against dandelions, and eyes to drink in stars and suns, and ears to hear symphonies, the trilling of songbirds, the voices of your loved ones. It can be your temple, playground, mouthpiece, weapon, avenue of expression and liberation, sponge for sensory information, your language for emotion and desire and sorrow and love and passion and connection and life…
So what shall it be? You decide.
"Angreek87"
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