In New Zealand, the Maoris refer to their tattoos as Moko. Traditionally, they tattooed large areas of their bodies as well as their faces; some Maoris still do. I was fascinated to learn that segments of the designs of a person's facial moko may reference the person's immediate family or relatives.
European colonizers discovered that the "owner" of a moko could draw it from memory (without a mirror) and that he used it as a signature. I found examples of this on line. In the first case, it is the image of a land grant that was signed by a Maori named Tuawhaiki, chief of Otago Ngaitahu tribe. The second example is a signature of a Maori named Kowiti who was the chief of Waimate and Maunganui.
To me, there's a correspondence here with the floor plan Lynne posted. The moko signatures look a bit like maps.
It makes me think about the floor plan of my apartment and how I inhabit the space. I think about which areas I've lived in the most and the corners I am rarely even aware of. I think of the floor plan of my face, how I have inhabited it, and it has inhabited my life. I wear the sun on my cheeks, the water I drink: in my eyes. My eyes are doorways, as are my ears, mouth, and nose. Passages where I tread more often. And the edges of my forehead, where it meets the thicket of my hair -- this is a quiet place, but equally important. The years have started to dry and gather into creases on my skin.
And just as the moko signature references family - shared DNA, shared memories, belonging - the floor plan of my face connects me to mine. My nose looks more like my father's now. My chin, I am told, comes from my grandfather. My eyes are brown like my mother's.
