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:

virgin (tattoo) diaries pt. 4

I'm sick today. 

Delirium is setting in: I'm convinced that this super-cold will be my ultimate demise. Oh, the agony! I'm pretty dramz about being sick. My Mother just spit coffee at her netbook screen (understatement of the year, yeah, Ma?). It's not that I am a wimp when it comes to pain (hello, giant arm tattoo). Mostly, I just can't stand letting go of control. Body aches and sniffles forced us to cancel our big Thanksgiving dinner (this vegetarian was even gonna cook a pork roast!) and abandon all plans to do home improvement-y stuff. Well, now hubby's flying solo on those projects, and the pork has been demoted to the freezer. 

On the upside, I can catch up on some blogging and delve into guilty-pleasure TV. Umm, Breaking Amish and Drop Dead Diva, anyone? I won't apologize. 

So yeah, blogging. Typing actually hurts. Hurts! But, it hurts the core of my being to be a giant lazy blob (I thrive on being busy). And in the spirit of pain, shall I give you the latest in my adventures-in-ink?



(This is officially a saga, by the way. More parts than the goddamn Lord of the Rings.)

My precioussss is two weeks (and four days) old today. Technically it's not flaking or scabby anymore, but there are shiny areas that resemble scars and I'm for sure going to get in trouble for picking. I didn't pick. Well, mostly I didn't.

In less than two weeks, I get it coloured. But wait. I can't imagine loving it anymore than I already do. TRUE LOVE FOREVER! Maybe I'm having cold feet about the colour? Me! I'm flip-flopping, but I'd better decide very soon. This man is highly coveted and I've waited 7 months for my appointment.

If I go colour (which I've always wanted), I can't go back. If I stay black and grey for a while, I can always change my mind. But the design was meant to be coloured - there are parts that seem unfinished. Will that just bug me? Also, Mr. David Glantz is a colour master!

When in doubt: Photoshop, right? I attempted to see what my new tattoo would look like in Technicolor but it resembled a child's colouring book. I won't share the results. Let's just say it wasn't a win for Team Colour. 

Instead, I'll compare some of my faves from my inspiration board on Pinterest and elsewhere in the blogosphere:

{ BLACK + GREY vs. COLOUR }

Place your bets!

{ Pinterest // Inked Girls }

 { Pinterest // Now and Then }

 

  { Pinterest }

{ Pinterest // Inked Girls }

{ Pinterest // Jason Kim for BlackBook Mag }

p.s. I'm still conflicted!

virgin (tattoo) diaries pt. 3

I did it.

You wanna say I'm all mouth, yeah? OK, sometimes I talk a big game. Sometimes I sissy out. But this is my year, remember? I'm just doing it. All of it. Bunce wondered aloud if we really do "get things out of our system". Maybe we just scratch the itch and enjoy some temporary relief. I think I'll always be itchy.

(Like my 5-day-old tattoo. Oh, the itching.)

There are some people in my life who share my affliction. 30-something going on 16? You know who you are. I guess I'm just trying to figure out how to satiate my inner irrational teenager while staying within the confines of my responsible adult existence. Cabin in the Woods of the soul. Spoiler alert! I'm making sacrifices to my demons.

My demons are happy.

My actual 16-year-old self didn't rebel with a hasty, amateur Daytona Beach dolphin ankle tattoo. I experimented with hair colour and pierced my nose on a New Year's Eve dare, offering up my guinea pig face to a beauty school freshman. My folks weren't especially strict about that stuff but I remember them being pretty anti-tattoo (until, at 50, my mother beat me to the punch) and I wanted to be a good girl. Also, I was quite self-aware at 16. I was fickle and flighty and pretty uncomfortable with being me. Not an ideal candidate for permanence, right?

I never wanted a dolphin. I always wanted a bird (see? I'm not being impulsive). It doesn't mean anything. It's just pretty. And while that might sound like a silly reason to choose a specific tattoo subject, I think it's smart. An aesthetically pleasing representation of nature will never cease to be relevant.

{ get ready... }

I'm 33. I feel 16 (angst and all) but I know who I am now. I'm comfortable in my skin (itchiness aside). And I decided I might be – well, I AM – the kind of girl who chooses a full-forearm tattoo on her very first go.

My first of two sessions at Archive was last Thursday. I was hella nervous but I was pretty sure that it was the good kind. Like first-date-with-cute-boy nervous. Not STD-test-after-unprotected-sex nervous.

David was a total pro and just an awesome person. The atmosphere (non-pretentious, clinical-but-cozy) was ideal for a first-timer like me. The pain was probably hiding under adrenaline and good conversation, so it wasn't as excruciating as I'd been made to believe. I also told myself that it was less horrible than roller coasters and and PAP smears and job interviews. It was. The last portion of the shading started to get to me, however, and I realized that 2 hours was probably my threshold. No matter – David finished a beautifully-executed starling perched among wispy freesias (a whopping 7x4" piece) in time for me to be home for dinner.

In a month, I'll get my colour done. I can't imagine loving it any more than I do, but I'm a sucker for colour. All of them. RAINBOWS!

 { this guy will be making a lot of cameos in my photos. forever. }

In the meantime I'm trying to ignore the fact that I am molting. Molting! Yeah, like a seagull or a tree frog. JUST PIECES OF MY BODY FALLING OFF. I would generally be inclined to pick at and "encourage" this process. I'm a picker. But I have been strongly advised against it. Forbidden! Put me in a straight jacket. Please.

I blubbered "It completes me!" after admiring it (again) in the mirror tonight. Hubby was surprised to learn that he hadn't already been the last piece of my wholeness. I'm sure he and ink-bird will learn to live harmoniously.

And if they don't? Tattoos are a lot more permanent than marriages, so you can guess how that will go down.

(Totally kidding. He loves it.)

More non-iPhone photos when I start looking more like a girl and less like a reptile. 

---

Read more about my adventures in ink here and here.

virgin (tattoo) diaries pt. 2

One month! One month!

If you haven't read Part 1, you can do so here. Lazy? Here's the gist: wanted a tattoo forever, finally committed, booked a super in-demand artist, had to wait 6 months for my appointment. Well, 6 months is now 1. 40 days, to be exact. I'm not quite sure how I haven't been bursting with impatience. Well, I have. But what can I do? I haven't even seen the final drawing yet. Really, I'm not even sure he's started it yet, but I'm trying not to be THAT girl. I'll bug him in a couple of weeks, yeah?

All of this waiting has not allowed doubt to creep in, like you might expect.

Nope. In fact, quite the opposite. I've already decided on my next THREE tattoos. Oh boy. Here's the thing: if, in an interview, say, you asked me to name my greatest weakness, I'd probably not say "getting caught up in things" but that would be the truth. I'd likely choose a strength disguised as a weakness ("I'm such a perfectionist."), something that didn't paint me as a flake prone to too-romantic whims. But I am that. And well, I'm "caught up" in this thing. 

I suppose I should wait for my 1st before being so rash. Extreeeemes!

But if I love it as much as I think I'm going to, here's the (body) map of my tattoo-plan:

Lower left arm: birds & flowers
Upper right arm: bees!
Right wrist: my sis and I are getting matching word tattoos, something from our secret sister-language, natch
Leg TBD: bike (avec doggie riding in basket!)

I'm a ridiculous human.

I also just bought tickets to see Rich Aucoin (my latest music-crush) at Lee's Palace on the very same day as my tattoo appointment. Bloody gauze and front-row dancing. Yeah!

Stay tuned, my pets!
 
Until I can share images of the actual thing, enjoy some inspiration I found in my travels:

p.s. The images on the left side of each panel above are the work of tattoo artist Peter Aurisch. One day I will travel to Berlin and make him draw pretty things on me.

(Other photo sources here)

virgin (tattoo) diaries, pt. 1

This. Is. Really. Happening.

I've talked about this thing for, oh, 7 years. In that time, my mother managed to think about a tattoo, decide to get one, then actually do it. My mother! Egads! OK, if you know her: not surprising. She's impulsive and weird (weird-good). So maybe I come by it honestly. But I'm also my father's daughter. My measure-twice-cut-once dad. He's responsible for my lists, my logic, my over-planning. Because I'm a product of these two sides (oil and frickin' WATER, I tell ya!), I want my first tattoo to be huge and right out there on my forearm, but I'm also gonna take 7 years to make it happen.

Cathie, my most refreshingly honest friend, has essentially forbade me to discuss it any longer. Until I actually did something about it. She's right. I don't want to be one of those all-talk people. I'm doing it, Cathie, I'm doing it!

Remember when, way back, I wrote this? So yeah, I'm still thinking flora/fauna and though I love-love-love bees, that's going to have to be tattoo #2. Speaking of #2, my mother is already talking about hers. I'd die if she beats me to it. Twice. (Not really, though. Mostly, I'm just pretty proud of her awesomeness.)

I found this artist, via my desk-neighbour, and he does some pretty lovely stuff. Even bees! But his birds and flowers are just so dreamy. I'm thinking a combo between these two pieces (less skull, more whimsy):

 Frank Gonzales

I have my consultation in LESS THAN 2 WEEKS! It's with this dude and he's awesome. 

David Glantz, Archive Tattoo

Plus he comes highly recommended by my bonkers-lovely friend Dawn. I yoinked this from her Instagram - it's her latest session:

And as usual, I won't do anything these days without creating a thematic Pinterest board first. Check it!

(And please tell me it won't hurt. It won't, right? 'Cause otherwise I'm getting one of these rad temporary tattoos by Tattly. Whatever, I'm totally tough.)

Ink.

 [ via Flickr ]

Alex and I are contemplating tandem tattoos to mark our one-year anniversary as a married couple (holy. crap. i'm. a. married. person.). I'm flip-flopping between a red-winged blackbird (and other birds), a bee or a whale. Not because they have any sort of significance really, but because I am in awe of things that live in the sea and the air (I am constantly and positively BLOWN AWAY by Blue Planet). Hm, I also like bicycle imagery... ooh, decisions!

Alex is still on the fence too (hurry!) and unlike me, is NOT an oversharer and does not want to discuss on the WWW what he has in mind. Boo.

We are both loving The Websters Pictoral Dictonary as reference.

Some inspiration:

[ from http://weheartit.com ]

[ from http://thedaintysquid.tumblr.com/ ]