This is a picture of Corey with a tattoo of fulvic acid, which he studied in grad school. He said he got it “as an homage to the pain of my graduate work.” It’s just one of many wonderful science tattoos compiled by The Loom. The collection is rather staggering.
Tattoos seem a piratey sort of thing. Perhaps a day without a breeze can be spent idly etching your own skin. I for one prefer to keep my eyes to the horizon and peeled for the white whale, which eludes me still. I believe myself to changeable a character to sustain a tattoo, it seems even the ideas I hold most dear can be mutated in the course of a single day. Is it not the way of the scientist to keep an open mind and consider nothing to be set in stone?
As the sun beats down heavily on my brow I feel a headache creeping up from the base of my neck. It must surely be because my sleep last night was plagued by such nightmares that I awoke tied in knots. Sailors should never tie themselves into knots.
Though my skin is unmarked, I feel inked within. Last night the white whale darted palely through the darkest corners of my mind, and the tendrils of the kraken rose up to strangle me.