For years, I have been admiring body art.  My uncles S and A both have tattoos on their arms, friends have tattoos on the small of their backs, sadly referred to as “tramp stamps”; a boy in High School had Jim Morrison covering his entire back (amazingly cool then but I wonder now what he thinks of it; someone else has stars on the back of her neck leading down to a cluster on her back right shoulder; my good friend S has a frog between her shoulder blades and is thinking of trailing snowflakes down her back; tribal bands and Asian symbols/kanji abound; all with meaning (or just “Pretty”) to their bearer.  I have always thought, ‘Wow’ and left it at that.  I wasnt really interested in tattooing myself and kept my rebellion to piercing my tounge a few days after my 18th birthday.

I had been a ‘good girl’ all the time up until then in college and wanted something just for me my junior year that was a bit crazy.  I told my Mum right after and I still have the email that she sent me about hoping I was happy with my ‘tounge thing’ and that she knew it was brave of me to get it and then tell her and how proud she was of me for having the guts to tell her in the end, even knowing that she would be upset.  It meant a lot then and still does 🙂  Either way, I wasnt going to go as far as a tattoo (though I thought about it) because I had no idea what I wanted and a cute little butterfly on my hip, a short-sighted place for a tattoo on a girl anyway, nor for having it on my back where I would never be able to see it anyway, just wasnt for me.  If I were to get something that would be with me forever, I wasnt going to make that decision when I was in my teens or early 20’s because I was still trying to figure out who I was.  I still am in a way but now I know who I am and who I will remain.

In thinking about a tattoo, I knew what I wanted and what I would never get.  I wanted words, not a picture.  Something that would be easily read from both sides so that I could always see it and know the meaning of the words and that whomever saw it could read it and ask what it meant and not just “Oh, now what does that say?”  Something with colour and descriptive of the me that I have been, am now and will be forever.  And this is what I came up with:DSCF0759Oh Wait….

DSCF0766 Thats better.  Much nice to show a bit of Sitka in the background too 🙂  Before anyone gets nervous, the colour is a bit off because I am peeling, a normal process.  The lighter blue in the middle of the ‘U’ is the closest to the true shade that this camera can capture.  It looked a bit tealy-blue originally and is really a light blue…think perfect sky blue in the summer.  I like it much more than black.

DSCF0761 DSCF0762

My view (top) and yours (bottom).  I love the way it looks, the placement, the colour, what I chose to have done; just everything about it was wonderful and all I expected it to be.  The bonus was that the pain was much less that anything I had thought and worked myself into thinking it would be.  A lot like scraping myself with a pin forgotten in a shirt.  Yes, its a lot of scraping but after the first line, you kind of forget what is happening and the endorphines kick in.  It helps when you have someone to talk to you the whole time (Thanks a MILLION P, I hope you enjoyed your  hike 🙂 ) and thankfully, the artist was great and easy to talk to.

There is only one downside to this.

This is bloody addicting and I’m thinking of another.

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