still journaling mostly over  here.

Why do we do things to ourself that involves a lot of pain just for looking a little bit better? i mean when you think about it there's all sorts of stoopid things that humans do to themselves for the sake of their image that just don't make sense. corsets, high healed shoes, shaving legs etc, we all know the list.

Some make a bit more sense, i guess. One of those was firmly in my mind tattoos, right up until a certain point this afternoon. i have had a tattoo since millennium eve, dec 31, 1999. i couldn't recall much of the process other than that i remember it hurt quite a bit, but obviously not too much as i went back there today once again.

I think that tattoos are pretty cool when you are using them as a permanent accessory that helps you to define some part of yourself, or at least display it to the outer world. it should always have some important meaning to both yourself internally and hopefully also between you and the outer world or else in my mind it becomes something trivial and rather silly. that made a lot of sense for my first tattoo, something that took me 7 years of consideration before i could settle upon one image that i wanted to have on my body for the remainder of my life. That image, a quill feather pen being dipped into an ink well was perfect i thought. it managed to capture three of my loves in an attractive display (writing, reading and a deep fascination for pens).

i was kind of surprised this past year when i began to think about wanting a new tattoo. was i going to keep doing this throughout my life, every few years, apparently in an ever-decreasing interval, find a new thing i wanted imprinted upon my body? i wasn't sure but as i thought about things i might want i was able to come up with not one but two things that i really wanted to come together. The first was a circa 1920 movie camera, canisters and all, the second an antique tripod style accordion camera. Again, two things that capture some very real passions central to the happiness in my life. In fact, with these two tattoos, i would be capturing all but one of my core, internal passions as a permanent record on my body. The one lost is jewellery making, perhaps it will show itself another time. There are other passions of course, but for the most part they are external passions. ie - the internals i really do for myself much more than for anyone else, whereas the externals, like say, women, include others. (or should, you know, if i dated better)

The decision didn't seem difficult to make, once i had picked the images. it just came down to finding the free cash, the actual images and making the appointment. All that got done in short order and today i went down and got down to business. i ended up splitting the two tattoos into two sessions. One, they cost a bit more than i was expecting and didn't want to spend that much money all at once and the other, i didn't want to be on that bench under the needle (well technically needles as there are more than just one active at one time) for four continuous hours.

"Masochist." I can not comprehend why this was not the overwhelming thought that went through my head all last week and up until i was lying on that bench. It was certainly the thought that struck my head as the first needles one again penetrated my skin. Or rather it specifically wasn't the thought that went through my head because not only was i rather taken with large vibrant thoughts of the word "OW," i also certainly was not taking any pleasure in the sensation.

"Sadist." This is the word that i certainly was thinking all week as i kept getting notes from my friend sharolyn indicating the great joy she was experiencing at the thoughts of watching me having my tattoo done. This was the word that i practically had to shout aloud over her laughs of glee at the sight of me in such pain. I don't know what it is about her but there is nothing that pleases her more than to see me in some sort of physical, mental or otherwise pain. come to think of it, this is what always used to please my best friend the most back when we hung out as well.

i can assuredly admit that she looked on throughout the entire process almost with avarice at the tangibility of the joy of the experience. i kid you not, she could not have been happier each time i would be forced to exclaim in pain. she repeatedly asked me to explain in full, coloured detail what the pain was feeling like at that very moment. she practically leapt from her chair to take this picture (note the tear that formed in the corner of my eye it hurt so much at that point)



And she will have to admit that i am one of the best people out there as friends go. Not only did i allow her to come and watch me get my tattoo, knowing about her twisted pain fetish. But also because i did my part to make the process more enjoyable. I talked through the pain, discussing what it was like and where it hurt. i would also let myself be unmanly and cry out at times (sure, sure, it could be true).
i wasn't, however, completely and utterly giving. At one point she was sitting above me waiting for me to take a picture of my face the next time it hit a grimace and filled back up with pain and just as she said something funny enough (ok, i take it back, it was probably Mikel my tattooist) to make my entire face light up with a smile and laughter Mikel hit a particularly painful part and my face rather changed into some sort of horrible drugged out pain mask...it's kind of beyond words of description so...



ok, hold on, i take it back. the very fact that i not only let her take this picture but am willing to put such an unflattering image of myself up on the internet beside such a story would indicate that i was all giving all the time during the process.

in the end it couldn't have been nearly as bad as i let on, cause i got through it , walked out the the receptionist and made the appointment for the next one for 3 weeks from now. don't get me wrong, i still don't know quite why someone would do this to themselves. We saw one tracing on the wall for a group of arm images that will take 40 hours to apply. i was only under the needle for an hour and a half. although Mikel is a great tattooist and even more importantly a good conversationalist so he can keep you talking and trying not to think about the needles. here he is at work...



but 40 hours? i think not.

And in the end i am so very happy with the finished product that how can i complain? Ok, i can complain about the twisted friend i have that sat and laughed gleefully at my pain all the way through the entire process but after an hour and fifteen minutes when she said she had to go and i asked in my most plaintiff and woeful voice to at least walk me home she would only capitulate if i promised to buy her an ice cream. So just so we are clear, i not only had to pay money to have this terribly painful process performed upon my person for a great length of time but then i had to pay her to stick around after it was over. sure, i can complain about that. and yes, i do love her.

wanna see what the tattoo looks like right now?
it's here


it will look more like a tattoo tomorrow when the bandage comes off.