Saturday, December 17, 2011
Date: December 15, 2011
Prep/Hand-Drawing/Stencil-Application: 25 minutes
Breaks: 1 (10 minutes)
Tattooing: 2.5 hours
Total Tattooing Time To Date: 8.5 hours
"You ready for me to get all up in that ass?"
Those were the first words I heard upon walking into Kings Avenue. Hardly reassuring, I assure you.
I have been warned repeatedly by tattooists and tattoo collectors alike that the ass is a brutal area. These people weren't entirely right... nor were they wrong. It never made sense to me that the ass would be particularly painful - after all, it's mostly muscle and fatty tissue and my major problem with tattooing is when we're working directly over bone. Well, there is bone under there and the skin in some areas (on my body, at least) is particularly thin/lean... C'est la heiny.
We began with applying the new stencil for the dragon claw on the right buttock. As promised, Rubendall had re-tooled it to be clutching a pearl which would work better with the shape of my cheek. What I didn't realize was that he was going to make the pearl slightly translucent so that some of the dragon's claw would be visible through the pearl. It's going to look amazing once we add color. We also added more cherry blossoms to the right side and maple leafs to the left side.
[Ed. Note: traditionally, these flowers are never combined in the same piece because they are of different seasons. However, because my arms are of different seasons - mums on the left arm (fall) and peonies on the right arm (spring) - we've decided to use my spine as a dividing line to integrate the flora on my biceps and shoulders]
The bulk of my cheeks were just fine. Uncomfortable, certainly, but not excessively painful. The area which I will refer to as the "lower ridge," however was screamingly unbearable. And that sacrum area? Don't get me started; thin skin right on top of a bone that vibrates and sends nerve pulses through your spinal column and, thereby, the rest of your body. I'm trying not to remind myself that we will eventually have to go back there to shade it in.
At one point, Rube said to me, "This is gonna feel like I'm right in your crack but, trust me, I'm not." At the time, I believed him. Upon further inspection when I got home that night, I have come to the belief that he is not to be trusted on such issues. He definitely got in there to a certain degree.
"This is the closest I've ever had a man get to my asshole with a vibrating machine," I joked in some bizarre effort to bring levity to the situation. We had a laugh, but the pain was still there, front and center.
Currently, sitting sucks (even on an Aeron chair). Wearing pants sucks. Bending over to pick something up or put on my shoes sucks. I walked into the bathroom yesterday afternoon and, for an inexplicable split second, couldn't figure out where there was blood and lymph on the toilet seat. And - full disclosure - my morning bowel movement no longer brings me a sense of peace and serenity because I'm terrified about the direction of my wiping.
Next sitting is Friday, which will presumably make Holiday Hugs from my family even more painful than usual.
Wish me luck...
[Ed. Note: oh, and yes, Fort Greene residents... this photo was taken by my lovely girlfriend in the bathroom of Olea shortly after this sitting]