I’m stoked to be back. Let’s dive in.
Welcome to my (flushed and sweaty) body, tattoo!
This happened a little over a month ago. Until that point, I was a tattooless rube. You’re witnessing my ascendance to a ‘person who commits to things’ level. Unfortunately, there were no mirror ponds nor rainbow bridges. To any Girl Guide veteran who has made the leap from Spark to Brownie, apologies for my vague remembrance of that ceremony. I was blinded by boredom, disdain, or whatever.
I love it. As it has become me, this should be no surprise. But, really, I’m jazzed.
The original concept came from this sculpture by Canadian artist, Shary Boyle. Grotesque fun times.
It was translated by Lydia K, tattoo artist of Halifax.
The process was relaxed. Two consultations and a morning of anxiety, followed by 45 minutes of moderate pain. Absolutely, one hundred percent, worth it.
I am not familiar with pain. I have avoided most injuries. I’m not big into head cracking activities. I once sprained an ankle and it was far from dignified.
Healing took about two weeks. It meant no direct sunlight and a few days of awkward contorted bathing. I have found a lot of conflicting tattoo care advice. My suggestion is, as the process varies, do as the artist says.
Beyond that, just got for it. Consider the art and find an artist who knows what’s going on. I recommend Lydia and so do many others.
This did not turn into a serious discussion on body modification, thank God.