On a whim my boyfriend dared me to get a tattoo like I dared him.
We first called around for the nearest tattoo artist. It wasn’t hard to find a good artist because it seems in this small blue collar country town there are many great hidden artists.
No one would take checks which was understandable. We check out the artist portfolio and was please with the original works. We decided to keep it simple and decorative. Nothing hardcore nothing demonic. We googled “Rihanna stars” and came up with a few results. And chose this with colors because it was safe and anything could go with that and I could go with any direction as far as what story my future series of tattoos would tell.
My next one will be more elaborate, probably bigger.
So he traced the design and than traced it on me after apply a solution. My heart began to palpitated and I brace for the pain. The machine turned on and the needle moved so fast it seemed to not move at all. I braced myself for the pain. The hand got closer to my skin I gripped my knees. So I wouldn’t pull away if it was to painful.
The needle touched and it felt like… the most lovely feeling in the world. It didn’t hurt at all I could tell by my sadistic boyfriends and artist’s face, they were disappointed. I watched the needle travel as he trace and lay down the ground work. I felt it give life to my foot. I equivalate the pain as much less painful than a sewn in weave. A wrestling match or a thorough workout is way more painful.
Matter of fact if I did feel anything I used the mind over matter technique. But I like the pain it was a sweet sensation and the fact a beautiful reminder was left in it’s place was the cherry on top. I now understand why doing this is addictive to some. I know I may be a drama queen. But I think I am more of an indigo.
The artist than applied color and warned me the ground work was over, the more painful part was about to. When he started the color I couldn’t help but giggle I watch as he tried to dig deeper to cause more pain and that’s when I felt nothing. The artist said that it releases endorphins into my brain. I felt like the guy from “The Little Shop of Horror” that loved the pain the dentist was giving him.
I ask,” Am I crazy for that?”
He said, “no it’s a plus.”
I was sad when it was over. 😦 The artist told me instruction on how to clean and take care of the tattoo. And slapped it and told me “welcome to the tattoo club”.
I laughed and looked at my boyfriend, and said “why me, what did I do to everybody that they want to see me in pain?”