world nomad

A recount of my tattoo experience last Sunday

I watch him mark the spot on her ankle, prepare the needle and I feel okay and not too nervous. Then at that second when I feel okay about the whole process the artist switches on the tattoo gun and the vibrating jackhammer like buzzing starts up. It sends a chill down me and I begin to wonder about the pain involved with the whole process. The tattoo artist wipes the last of the turquoise from the star Miriam and we head over to the counter. I stand at the glass counter pull of piercing jewelry and I think to myself that another piercing might be more enjoyable than the tattoo process. I stare at the symbol I would like tattooed on my back and reach into my handbag to pull out a hundred dollar note and my passport. Shaking with anxiety I place the money on top of my passport and hold the picture in my hand nervously looking at the guy behind the counter. Ever so slowly, with my hands shaking I hand over the money and passport and say, “do it”. I know at this moment if I walk away it will be a long time before I walk in again. I have to wait a few minutes while the tattoo artist sets up and I call my friend and let her know what I’m doing. I’m called into the cubicle where I see all the utensils laid out neatly on a sterilized silver platter and the office like chair with a head rest for me to get comfortable in. He asks me if this is my first tattoo and with anxious eyes I look at him and tell him, “yes”. With a relaxed voice he says, “for a once in a lifetime offer I will do something to help you with your first tattoo, but first let me place it on.” He reaches for a shaver and removes the hair around where the tattoo will be. I breathe very deeply and try to relax some more. He then wipes down the area again and places on the carbon copy of the ohm symbol to the back of my neck. I grab the pretty pink mirror dangling next to his work bench and admire what will become my tattoo. I look again and ask him to place it just slightly to the left some more. The tattoo placement is repositioned and I tell him it’s perfect. He asks me to sit and I obediently do so. I sit in the turned around chair as instructed with my arms resting on the back rest and my head on the stand with my hair pulled across and out of the way. He tells me that he will fill the needle with water and do a test patch on my skin because he doesn’t want me moving and ending up with a funky tattoo because the anxiety is worse than the procedure. I close my eyes and take a deep breath in, clenching Miriam’s hand; I get nervous for the billionth time and wait for the needle to hit my skin. As I feel his hand coming to rest on my back I stay extremely still. The moment I wait for happens and then needle has gone through a test drive on my tattoo. I scrunch up my face and look at him with a, “that’s it? Let’s get the show on the road”. He fills the needle with ink and outlines the tattoo and then 15 minutes later fills the remaining space in. I like the sensation of it vibrating through my body and the ticklish feel around my neck. My knee jerks from the nerves shooting down my leg and I laugh at the trying not to move at all. It’s over and I stand and reach for the dangling mirror again to admire the art in the larger mirror at the back of the store. I notice how red it is but can clearly see the ohm and I love it. People are free to judge this and say what they would like as entitled, but at the end of the day I don’t regret the process one bit.

posted by Mai @ 4:53 PM