virgin (tattoo) diaries, pt. 5

If you're following my adventures in ink, you'll remember my latest dilemma: to colour or not to colour.

As if it was even a question! C'mon. I am actually incapable of monochromatic, let alone grayscale. Hubby puts his foot down at one accent colour in each space (*pout*) so my house is definitely a compromise. When it comes to my body, though, he has zero say. I'm a walking bag o' Skittles, mostly. He's OK with it, provided I don't push it on him too much.

I try, though, because I'm a giant pain in the ass.

I had the remainder of the work done in October (yeah, I'm shit at timeliness) and I am absolutely in love. Smitten! I decided 5 minutes into my appointment, however, that I just wouldn't be totally satisfied to leave it as-is. I like to meddle with things, over-work them. It's why I can't make pastry to save my life (I'm my mother's biggest failure). But David's a total pro and won't lead me astray. I'm saving up to get some additions to it, maybe in the fall. More flowers, more confetti, more awesome.

I'm probably not going as far as getting sleeves, but I definitely feel like it has the potential to be even more spectacular if we expand it. Just a little.

It feels right. It feels like me. It was worth the pain. (It hurts, you guys. A lot. Like hot Exacto-knife slashes, over and over. Don't let anyone tell you that it's like "a million bee stings" because that's an understatement. And a bloody lie.)

I may be reconsidering my original tattoo body map. I'm thinking that I like concentration: fewer, bigger pieces. David does amazing things with poppies and I'm so very fond of his animals. He'll be seeing a lot more of me.

Of course, now that I'm hooked, I'm stocking up on inspiration. Here are some gems, for your eye-feasting pleasure: