BZZZZZZZZZ
(WARNING: I am going to sound like a 16-year-old artslut in this post.)
I want more ink. For the worst possible reason, that being I just want another damn tattoo. I don't have any specific image in mind. No meaningful symbol or major life-changing event inspiring me to minor hipster mutilation. No, I just want to draw something and put it on my body permanently through repeated needle penetrations. Because I can, and I don't have to worry about it interfering with my nude modelling career.
I am torn, current considerations being elaborating on the existing tats I have on my shoulders and fleshing them out to shoulderplates (probably blue Pictish swirls) OR a calligraphed armband OR a triskele over my heart. In a brief, sputtering moment of bad taste I considered putting "BLUE COLLAR" in black gothic lettering between my collarbones, and although it's sort of a funny idea I doubt I would laugh about it for very long. And if I ever get fat at a desk job I will never forgive myself for making such a foolish, testosterone-fuelled decision.
I was inspired as I was walking around the pedestrian mall today after work. Here in Salem, we have a few pagans (NO! Not in SALEM?!?) who are fixtures in the local "sell witchy crap to tourists and food court druids" industry, and although I loathe their repulsive schilling of cheap novelty crap ("Laurie Cabot's Spell Bottles" my ass) swathed in the cloak of righteous religious indignation, some of them have amazing tattoos. The best, to me, aren't the very complex and awe-inspiring (but too busy and prone-to-fade) shaded biomech stuff, but the real simple and bold black-line work that a good artist can use to naturally enhance someone's body features. Lines up the backbone, stuff like that. And black, oh yes, definitely black.
Note to self: start tattoo fund. Anybody else wanna get done towards the end of the summer? Maybe I'll try to talk my dad into following through on his semi-sober claims that he'd get a Clan MacDuff tat on his shoulder if I ever went back to get more work done.
Oh My God, it's so hot, I love it. Oh please, Greenhouse gases, coalesce overhead in Salem. Grant me thy heat-trapping density here and here alone, where I may sweat constantly, and spare the polar ice caps.
I want more ink. For the worst possible reason, that being I just want another damn tattoo. I don't have any specific image in mind. No meaningful symbol or major life-changing event inspiring me to minor hipster mutilation. No, I just want to draw something and put it on my body permanently through repeated needle penetrations. Because I can, and I don't have to worry about it interfering with my nude modelling career.
I am torn, current considerations being elaborating on the existing tats I have on my shoulders and fleshing them out to shoulderplates (probably blue Pictish swirls) OR a calligraphed armband OR a triskele over my heart. In a brief, sputtering moment of bad taste I considered putting "BLUE COLLAR" in black gothic lettering between my collarbones, and although it's sort of a funny idea I doubt I would laugh about it for very long. And if I ever get fat at a desk job I will never forgive myself for making such a foolish, testosterone-fuelled decision.
I was inspired as I was walking around the pedestrian mall today after work. Here in Salem, we have a few pagans (NO! Not in SALEM?!?) who are fixtures in the local "sell witchy crap to tourists and food court druids" industry, and although I loathe their repulsive schilling of cheap novelty crap ("Laurie Cabot's Spell Bottles" my ass) swathed in the cloak of righteous religious indignation, some of them have amazing tattoos. The best, to me, aren't the very complex and awe-inspiring (but too busy and prone-to-fade) shaded biomech stuff, but the real simple and bold black-line work that a good artist can use to naturally enhance someone's body features. Lines up the backbone, stuff like that. And black, oh yes, definitely black.
Note to self: start tattoo fund. Anybody else wanna get done towards the end of the summer? Maybe I'll try to talk my dad into following through on his semi-sober claims that he'd get a Clan MacDuff tat on his shoulder if I ever went back to get more work done.
Oh My God, it's so hot, I love it. Oh please, Greenhouse gases, coalesce overhead in Salem. Grant me thy heat-trapping density here and here alone, where I may sweat constantly, and spare the polar ice caps.