About a week ago now I got my first tattoo done. Between my sister and cousins and I, they had always assumed I would go berserk into that field once I was of age due to my other piercings. The funny thing is they both beat me to the punch about a few years ahead of time. Toast to ageism and stereotypes.
Actually my cousin has racked up to a total of half a dozen in the span of two years. She could practically be a mobster. Further speculations of prejudice towards body modifications. Hm.
To be serious though, I have got to say, it is actually very painful. And anyone who has or says so otherwise is lying or just a freak of nature. I had it done on my upper right thigh and to take it into comparison of things in experience – it actually feels like cutting.
I don’t know if perhaps I would feel a certain tenderness towards the art form in this way, since it’s touching such a subject, but I deem at the end of the day it’s still a hell of a lot better than the former. Currently, while its in the last stages of itching, I have been resisting the urge to scratch the pretty black ink out of it all day. I can’t even begin to comprehend the days ahead that were recommended to be sponged bathed…I will find a way somehow. Cleanliness first after all.
The one other thing I have learned from this unexpected development – as I have contemplated for ages about getting one, since the same sister above had advised and counseled me against it saying that its got to be well thought out, it was also a decision made on a Friday night for an appointment Saturday evening with my cousin ( the same one above too ) – I learned that for the rest of my life I will always remember my tattoo artist. Or so he told me so anyway while he was busy inking away onto my skin. That, and I never actually thought of getting a tattoo placed on my thigh. Nor of putting an enzo circle there, though I love it.
At the very least you would remember the first time you stripped down to your lady johns in front of a somewhat stranger-man. What with your sweater half tucked up your bra and half a legging dangling off your flowery socks. It’s a moment to be remembered for sure. Or something to that effect. Heck, maybe this is what all of you guys do on a Sunday afternoon.
While it might be too early to tell, but as far as I am concerned, this form of body art is incredible and incredibly addictive. I respect all of you veterans out there getting this done every which way and not on all the creative parts of your body. Man this Duckling has got to toughen up.
What’s your thought on tattoos?