I finally got my tattoo redone by some other artist.
I know I never even mentioned the first tattoo on here. So that's what I've been up to: researching tattoos and tattoo artists. In between hating the world, and all things me, I finalized one final life plan which was to get a tattoo to cover up some ghastly veins on my right thigh. As the 2nd tattoo artist so eloquently put it, that is the ickiest spot to get a tattoo. I'm like you don't say.
The first time, I thought, okay no need for research, went by a couple of places, did a price check to get a few ladybugs lining the veins. The place I finally chose decided to dick me around on the day of so I went to the first place I could pull up on Google that had the least amount of appointments on a Saturday afternoon. And I got the one lone woman in the tattoo parlor to ink me and guess what, she succeeded in fucking up the ladybugs, "How do you fuck up ladybugs?"
So I had to wait 3 weeks for it to heal and get a flower to add to the ladybugs (because really what else can you add to ladybugs), my least favorite image to cover it up. As one of the artists I consulted with for cover up round 2 said, "No one can fuck up a flower, an image, a face, an angel, yeah, but a flower, everyone can draw that. How badly can a flower look?" Well, then, so a flower it is.
So I saw this guest artist visiting this Atlanta studio that had this awesome Heath Ledger/Joker tattoo in his portfolio. A petite tatted up artist by the name of Timmy Barnes. He was rather sweet, gentle with the needles but not very chatty which really bummed me out. He had this concentrated gaze as he worked, almost like a child. Normally I would prefer if you don't speak. I have hairdressers, manicurists, etc that insist on speaking instead of working and then they proceed to ask you questions they really shouldn't be asking you. Don't speak to me, just get my fucking hair done, please. But this time around I would have liked him to speak because it would have helped with the pain, you know. It's like seeing a doctor who is professional, keeps it formal, does a good job but really doesn't give a shit. He wants to make you feel better and if that means a dozen painful shots, so be it. "So the shots hurt...hmmm...like I give a shit."
But my tatt is nice. It's a blue flower (what real flower is blue, really?) but it's nice. I like it. Probably get sick of it like every other thing in my life.
Now I know how people get addicted to it. It's like, "Are you hurting, angry, bitter, try getting some artwork done, the pain of the needles will make you feel better." Now I am thinking of what I want to do next. Why not line up my entire right thigh with cute little flowers?
I know I never even mentioned the first tattoo on here. So that's what I've been up to: researching tattoos and tattoo artists. In between hating the world, and all things me, I finalized one final life plan which was to get a tattoo to cover up some ghastly veins on my right thigh. As the 2nd tattoo artist so eloquently put it, that is the ickiest spot to get a tattoo. I'm like you don't say.
The first time, I thought, okay no need for research, went by a couple of places, did a price check to get a few ladybugs lining the veins. The place I finally chose decided to dick me around on the day of so I went to the first place I could pull up on Google that had the least amount of appointments on a Saturday afternoon. And I got the one lone woman in the tattoo parlor to ink me and guess what, she succeeded in fucking up the ladybugs, "How do you fuck up ladybugs?"
So I had to wait 3 weeks for it to heal and get a flower to add to the ladybugs (because really what else can you add to ladybugs), my least favorite image to cover it up. As one of the artists I consulted with for cover up round 2 said, "No one can fuck up a flower, an image, a face, an angel, yeah, but a flower, everyone can draw that. How badly can a flower look?" Well, then, so a flower it is.
So I saw this guest artist visiting this Atlanta studio that had this awesome Heath Ledger/Joker tattoo in his portfolio. A petite tatted up artist by the name of Timmy Barnes. He was rather sweet, gentle with the needles but not very chatty which really bummed me out. He had this concentrated gaze as he worked, almost like a child. Normally I would prefer if you don't speak. I have hairdressers, manicurists, etc that insist on speaking instead of working and then they proceed to ask you questions they really shouldn't be asking you. Don't speak to me, just get my fucking hair done, please. But this time around I would have liked him to speak because it would have helped with the pain, you know. It's like seeing a doctor who is professional, keeps it formal, does a good job but really doesn't give a shit. He wants to make you feel better and if that means a dozen painful shots, so be it. "So the shots hurt...hmmm...like I give a shit."
But my tatt is nice. It's a blue flower (what real flower is blue, really?) but it's nice. I like it. Probably get sick of it like every other thing in my life.
Now I know how people get addicted to it. It's like, "Are you hurting, angry, bitter, try getting some artwork done, the pain of the needles will make you feel better." Now I am thinking of what I want to do next. Why not line up my entire right thigh with cute little flowers?
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