Tattoos...

I was reading a blog attached to a site about a new film, "Happiness Is...". While I haven't delved into it deeply enough to understand the relevance, I came across a posting about a tattoo experience which I ended up commenting on.

Anyway, I thought I would post my response here on my blog as well in case anyone has any comments or thoughts.

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My tattoo experience was very different than that described above [in the posting] ... I am currently 46 and have two tattoos, neither of which I had on my 32nd birthday. Despite my family being one that frowned on tattoos, I always liked them. I had friends that got some after high school, some that got them in the military, a few that got a few in their college rebellion. I saw many I liked, but never any that I liked enough to want on my body for the rest of my life. I understood they were as deeply personal as something could get and therefor an item that one truly couldn't judge. One man's junk is another man's treasure, as they say. But I'd look at 18 year old guys with the Tazmanian Devil on their arm, or gals getting Tweetie Bird, and wonder if they would be happy about the decision when they were in their 50s, let alone 80s. I'd also see tattoos done by people that had no art ability at all and wonder how the recipient felt. Diamonds aren't forever... Tattoos are. Having studied martial arts for years, the appeal of the dragon and/or tiger were obvious, but didn't have enough personal meaning when I was young. So I didn't get one in my youth and as I started into my thirties it had been years since I seriously thought about getting one; the last time was when my father passed (I was barely 26) and seriously considered a memorial piece but still could not think of one I'd want forever. Then, at 32, I became a dad. I saw another new dad come in one day with a 'single needle' tattoo that was practically a photograph of his new born daughter. While not the style I liked for myself, I knew the tattoo artist had talent. We talked and that following Saturday I hopped on my motorcycle (another lifestyle choice my family wasn't happy with) and drove up to the tattoo parlor. No appt., no calls ahead, nothing. Very naive. Getting there so early we had time to discuss what I liked ('Japanese style'), what I wanted (a piece representing my new daughter and my deceased dad), size (a piece on my upper arm that could be covered by a short sleeve shirt and only visible if I was shirtless and therefor knew whoever I was with well, ie no business situations), and talked about specifics (ultimately deciding on a tiger protecting a Phoenix - the legendary bird that rises from the ashes, symbolizing rebirth). To get all that in I ended up getting a larger one than originally expected (from two inches above my elbow to the top of my shoulder. He drew it right on my arm, we made a few changes, he drew the details in a little more, and then started lining it all in. As it was such a large piece he said he typically would get all the lines in and then I would come back to get it colored. Since it was still pretty early and they were slow (the other artist in the shop was handling the other walk-ins), we did it all in one sitting. As he finished up with the black, doing some shading, I added my daughter's name and it is my favorite part, to this day.

 (This one took approximately 7.5 hours)

I did not find it particularly painful except when they were directly over a bone. I imagine an ankle or hip tattoo would not be the most pleasant experience, but I thought it was more uncomfortable than painful... Like someone scraping away at you. Nothing you enjoy, but not real pain, either. And either way, contrary to the posting, I didn't and wouldn't have felt the pain was a part of the experience or one of the points in getting it. You do it despite it, not because of it. At least I (and everyone I know) did. The only negative experience came the following day. Home and doing some work on the house, I had a sleeveless shirt on so it could heal and get some air. My mother came by to visit, walked in, started crying and said "There are two types of people in this world: people who get tattoos and people who don't. You just crossed the line." And she promptly left. She has come to accept it (she'll never like it) though. 

As far as the second tattoo, I didn't think I would ever get a second. I loved the first one, got a lot of compliments (from anyone except my mother, lol), but had no desire for any more. 11 years later however, at 43, my wife and I decided to have another baby. Sure enough, after my son was born I wanted to get another tattoo to have him with me - to be part of me - forever. I sketched out what I wanted (a dragon armband, Japanese style) and found an artist through some internet searching. I made an appt. and showed up, ready for my tattoo.... She informed me she was booked for over 4 months, this was a consultation appt. only, and took some measurements to do preliminary sketches! Boy, had things changed in the tattoo world! The rest is pretty similar to the first experience. No real pain, some discomfort, and another result I love and others seem to like as well. I had my baby son's name added at the end (within the dragon's tail, and my wife's name (within a red ball the dragon is clutching). I now have all three of them with me where ever I am or go.

(This one took approximately 5.5 hours)

Neither is visible unless I am shirtless, but they are there for me, no one else. Barring a third child there will be no more though...

I think... ;-)