When I got my first (and only) tattoo in 1997, the tattoo artist told me, "They're addictive - you'll be back." I wasn't sure at the time, because it hurt like hell (I'm a complete pain wimp, though, so maybe it didn't hurt as bad as I thought it hurt), but not long afterwards I knew I was hooked. I dreamed up all kinds of other designs, and for awhile everything looked like a potential tattoo. But, as noted, that was 11 years ago.
Well, I'm finally getting inked again. I don't have an appointment yet, but I have a consult set up on the 5th, at which point I have to lay down a deposit in cash, so I'll be making an appointment before I leave that consult - that's for sure. I'm both excited & nervous, because what I've got in mind is pretty big.
The idea for the first part of the new tattoo design came to me when my dad's prognosis became so grim last year. I knew he wanted to be cremated, and I'd seen some memorial tattoos done on TV (yes, I love those TLC tattoo shows) where small amounts of the ashes of the loved one are put into the ink that they do the tattoo with. I knew right then that I wanted to do that. I didn't tell my dad, because he really didn't like hearing about what he called the "maudlin" stuff people were thinking about him dying. He just wanted to live. So, I kept it to myself. And now I have a consult with a guy who, based on his portfolio, is a kickass portrait artist (no small feat with tattoos - I looked at another portfolio in town that was shockingly bad in comparison). I'd like my favorite photo of my dad, which happens to be with me on his lap when I was about three, tattooed on my left shoulder blade.
Then that got me thinking about my mom. She's still very much alive, but a few years ago she gave my brothers and I each a framed photo of herself with the words, "This is how I want to be remembered when I die." Yes, she's like that. And not in a morose way. Anyway, it's a gorgeous black & white photo of her, and as I was thinking about my dad's portrait tattoo I thought that photo of her would also make a lovely tattoo. So, I'm planning to get that on my right shoulder blade. She doesn't know, and I don't plan to tell her until I can show her. (And she doesn't read this blog, so far as I know, so no worries there.)
Portraits aren't small things - they're big. And these will be big. I want them to be big, I'm totally loving how I think they'll look. And I'm also freaking out about the pain. I know that I can stop it at any point and come back, but I'm still really nervous. Of course, for the first tattoo, my overly freaked-out self was actually a blessing in disguise - it hurt, yes... But it didn't hurt nearly as bad as I assumed it would. So maybe that's actually kind of a strategy I have here - assume the worst, so that anything better than that is a huge relief.
Anyway, I've got my consult on the 5th, to which I'll bring in the two photos in question along with my cash deposit, and I'll get to chat a bit with my artist. Yippee!
Well, I'm finally getting inked again. I don't have an appointment yet, but I have a consult set up on the 5th, at which point I have to lay down a deposit in cash, so I'll be making an appointment before I leave that consult - that's for sure. I'm both excited & nervous, because what I've got in mind is pretty big.
The idea for the first part of the new tattoo design came to me when my dad's prognosis became so grim last year. I knew he wanted to be cremated, and I'd seen some memorial tattoos done on TV (yes, I love those TLC tattoo shows) where small amounts of the ashes of the loved one are put into the ink that they do the tattoo with. I knew right then that I wanted to do that. I didn't tell my dad, because he really didn't like hearing about what he called the "maudlin" stuff people were thinking about him dying. He just wanted to live. So, I kept it to myself. And now I have a consult with a guy who, based on his portfolio, is a kickass portrait artist (no small feat with tattoos - I looked at another portfolio in town that was shockingly bad in comparison). I'd like my favorite photo of my dad, which happens to be with me on his lap when I was about three, tattooed on my left shoulder blade.
Then that got me thinking about my mom. She's still very much alive, but a few years ago she gave my brothers and I each a framed photo of herself with the words, "This is how I want to be remembered when I die." Yes, she's like that. And not in a morose way. Anyway, it's a gorgeous black & white photo of her, and as I was thinking about my dad's portrait tattoo I thought that photo of her would also make a lovely tattoo. So, I'm planning to get that on my right shoulder blade. She doesn't know, and I don't plan to tell her until I can show her. (And she doesn't read this blog, so far as I know, so no worries there.)
Portraits aren't small things - they're big. And these will be big. I want them to be big, I'm totally loving how I think they'll look. And I'm also freaking out about the pain. I know that I can stop it at any point and come back, but I'm still really nervous. Of course, for the first tattoo, my overly freaked-out self was actually a blessing in disguise - it hurt, yes... But it didn't hurt nearly as bad as I assumed it would. So maybe that's actually kind of a strategy I have here - assume the worst, so that anything better than that is a huge relief.
Anyway, I've got my consult on the 5th, to which I'll bring in the two photos in question along with my cash deposit, and I'll get to chat a bit with my artist. Yippee!
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