I love the way that bruises develop. Think about that word, “develop”. Doesn’t it make you think of chemical photography?
Being slapped or punched or cropped or paddled happens in an instant. The pain is momentary, you can’t keep it, but in its ephemerality there is value.
And yet, much like a photo, bruises capture a longer record of an instant. They might not last as long as a photo, but that just encourages you to renew them regularly.
When I am covered in bruises, I am covered in mementos. And I am covered in art.