Pins and needles and cool art
Today I successfully survived my first tattoo!
I will have pictures in a few days, but let me paint a picture for you all out there in LJ land.
songquake and I made it to the tattoo parlour on time (Deluxe Tattoo on Irving Park near Clark for the Chicagoans) and immediately the tattoo artist working on me took the print out of my tattoo and put it on transfer paper. We placed it and started the tattooing a mere 15 minutes after I arrived.
I will admit that I freaked out just a little before he started and had to psych myself out a little bit and do some deep breathing, but soon I was on the table with my legs dangling off, and the tattoo begun. It didn't really hurt very much at all. I think I said something like "You've gotta be kidding me?" or something when he started. Beth (that'd be Songquake) could tell you maybe exactly what I said but it something to the effect of "Well, hell, that barely hurts at all. Why the heck are people always whining about how much this hurts?!?"
Granted I could understand it a bit better in the later part of the tattoo when he was filling things in.
Beth was an almost perfect tattoo companion and moral supporter. What would you expect from someone who's a chaplain for a living? She held my hand, pet my back, said kind things to keep me calm and reminded me to breathe when I wasn't.
I kept comparing the pain to other things and talking about how the tattoo hurt less than getting waxed, laser hair removal, blood drawn, scratched and many other things. It felt like getting scratched a lot, like a sun burn sort of, nothing too awful.
After about an hour and a half I had a Chartres Labyrinth permanently etched onto my leg. It looks amazing and I'm really awesomely happy with it. It was worth the minor pain thus far.
(As an utter and complete non-sequitur. I'm listening to Pandora and a Madeleine Payeoux song came on where she mentions Ashtabula. I was wondering if there was another Ashtabula other than the one outside of Cleveland the county east of my parents. Indeed there is not, and so the Ashtabula mentioned in many standards of the past and present is the very same that I've driven thru a number of times and hung out in a couple as well)
Back to the tattoo. As I said there will be pictures soon! YAY! pictures. Until then I'm going to go color with Elena.
I will have pictures in a few days, but let me paint a picture for you all out there in LJ land.
songquake and I made it to the tattoo parlour on time (Deluxe Tattoo on Irving Park near Clark for the Chicagoans) and immediately the tattoo artist working on me took the print out of my tattoo and put it on transfer paper. We placed it and started the tattooing a mere 15 minutes after I arrived.
I will admit that I freaked out just a little before he started and had to psych myself out a little bit and do some deep breathing, but soon I was on the table with my legs dangling off, and the tattoo begun. It didn't really hurt very much at all. I think I said something like "You've gotta be kidding me?" or something when he started. Beth (that'd be Songquake) could tell you maybe exactly what I said but it something to the effect of "Well, hell, that barely hurts at all. Why the heck are people always whining about how much this hurts?!?"
Granted I could understand it a bit better in the later part of the tattoo when he was filling things in.
Beth was an almost perfect tattoo companion and moral supporter. What would you expect from someone who's a chaplain for a living? She held my hand, pet my back, said kind things to keep me calm and reminded me to breathe when I wasn't.
I kept comparing the pain to other things and talking about how the tattoo hurt less than getting waxed, laser hair removal, blood drawn, scratched and many other things. It felt like getting scratched a lot, like a sun burn sort of, nothing too awful.
After about an hour and a half I had a Chartres Labyrinth permanently etched onto my leg. It looks amazing and I'm really awesomely happy with it. It was worth the minor pain thus far.
(As an utter and complete non-sequitur. I'm listening to Pandora and a Madeleine Payeoux song came on where she mentions Ashtabula. I was wondering if there was another Ashtabula other than the one outside of Cleveland the county east of my parents. Indeed there is not, and so the Ashtabula mentioned in many standards of the past and present is the very same that I've driven thru a number of times and hung out in a couple as well)
Back to the tattoo. As I said there will be pictures soon! YAY! pictures. Until then I'm going to go color with Elena.