I don't have any tattoos, but I'm fascinated by them. I'm also nosy as all get out, so that aids the fascination a certain degree. Luckily I have a friend in Constance who doesn't mind my "What were you thinking when you got that one?" or "How'd you get one there? Did that hurt?" questions. Awhile ago she decided to get another tattoo--a big 'un, a statement piece if you will, and she invited me along to watch the process because I love me some process. I am also nosy. I love telling stories. Y'all know that I'm a talker. Until recently I didn't really think of myself as a storyteller, but then I realized that I've been telling stories for almost my entire life. It comes so naturally ... and loquaciously. But we all have stories, and that's the thing I love most about tattoos. They tell stories or conceal them, but when you see a tattoo--whether it's good, bad or ugly--you always know there's a story etched in it. Sure, some stories are short--I was drunk. I got married. My friend dared me.--but I think tattoos quite literally flesh out something about a person, and I'm all about that "something."
Anyway, this is my story about Constance's tattoo.
Constance has a beloved cat, Whiskers. S
he rescued him ages ago, when he was already beyond the kitty toddler phase, so we're not quite sure how old he is, but he's getting up there and has had a couple of health scares in the past few months so we're going to take the "Give them their flowers catnip while they're living" approach. I'm allergic to cats, and Whiskers is, so far, the only cat who seems to appreciate this about me so he keeps his distance. I'm acknowledged in that I'mma-walk-past-you-and-graze-your-leg-so-you-can-at-least-partake-of-my-amazing-coat-of-cat-fur, but then he leaves me be and purrs good naturedly from afar.
Anyway, because she is crafty, Constance figured she needed some way to capture the love and feistiness that is Whiskers, so she decided to get a tattoo.
Now here's the thing I love about Constance. It conjures a certain jingle from my childhood to mind (ain't gon' play no white sheep games!), but it just makes me love her even more: she's different and she don't care who knows it. She didn't just pick out a fab photo of whiskers and take it directly to any ol' tattoo parlor. Naw. She got crafty. She went Etsy on it. She stumbled across an artist making art she instantly loved and decided she wanted a portrait of her and Whiskers in a fun, colorful surreal style.
I don't know about you, but I've never thought about commissioning an artist to do anything for me. I've never felt quite that papal, but this is what's fun about living in a creative, collaborative world. Ask and pay and ye shall receive.
The result: a little bit sassy and a whole lotta sweet, punchy fun. It's lovely enough to frame and hang on one's wall, but it got even better once Constance decided to take the portrait along with her in her search of a tattoo artist. Not surprisingly, it took a bit of searching. Whether we have tattoos or not, we've all seen enough bad ink to know that there are people who possess tattoo equipment and then there are tattoo artists. Thankfully, Constance found an artist in Aleks at Beneath The Skin. Quiet, confident and incredibly focused he took the portrait, created a stencil and with some laidback swagger (he cute y'all) made plans to get straight to work. Once they had a date, Constance and I set aside 6 hours for the first of two sessions.
I'd never been in a tattoo parlor so I was highly curious--what goes on in there? Do people just show up? What sorts of people will I see and meet? Is it going to be hella weird that I'm just going to sit there for hours while my friend gets her entire upper arm inked? Y'all know I love me some people watchin', so I'm happy to report that I've added tattoo parlors to my list of Getta Loada This. It's fascinating to watch someone pop in on their lunch break and say, "I want to get an infinity symbol. On my hip bone." I mean, they had me pledging to get out more during my workdays! I just sit at my desk and catch up on blogs and such during my lunch break! I mean, dern!
Anyway, we originally thought it was going to take 2 sessions for the tattoo to be completed, but I forgot how righteous Constance is. HOMEGIRL SAT THERE FOR THE FULL FIVE+ HOURS like it wudn't no thang! Know what's even better? HOMEGIRL PACKED SOME SNACKS FOR HER BROWN SISTA. Whaaaat can I say?! I know how to pick me some friends, y'all. The WWF better stop playing and go 'head and call this girl to the ring already. She beasted that needle, northern wild style. I, on the other hand, winced on her behalf and stuffed my face with chips for comfort.
Meanwhile, it was amazing to watch her arm art go from being a blue, inky stencil to shades of prison tat/girl-you-is-bleedin' to technicolor wow. Check it.
It was a marvel watching Aleks etch all that detail, and he did a wonderful job of staying truthful to the portrait while recognizing what would work best ink-wise. To copy the portrait exactly (notice how the fish scales are missing around the border) would make for an overly busy tattoo, but he was also thoughtful about which colors he used and the depth of shading he created around the skirt and on Whiskers. His thoughtfulness continued when we went back for the second visit. They agreed to touch up certain spots, and he added more color in other areas. The final touches, I think, really give the piece more pop and cohesion.
It was just really neat to watch Constance's idea go from her head/heart to Simona's canvas to Alex's tattoo gun.
I like how the pieces can stand alone, but it's even cooler once you realize that one tattoo is based off of one story and two people's art forms. I'm not sure if Constance was the first person to have Simona's work turned into a tattoo, but I do know the tattoo pics got rave reviews and spurred a few more ink'd sessions in the world.
It's also a fun conversation piece--not just because it takes up her entire upper arm, but because when you stare at it long enough for her to call you out on it or if you ask her about it, she gets the chance to tell you about Whiskers. And in that telling you get a glimpse of her loving heart and her loyalty and devotion. This is something that those of us lucky to call Constance a friend already well know--she'll do anything to help you, to cheer you up, to feed you, to bedazzle and bejewel you, to make you laugh. I love to see what makes a person light up when they're talking--I don't care what or who it's about 'cause everybody's got their something.
And this something is about the love of one's cat, that lone feline soul who has brought and brings comfort in times of loneliness and madness, who purrs warmth on cold nights, cuddles when ill, feigns blithe indifference to hasty demands and lives as a reminder that it's always worth loving something outside of your own self.
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Do you have any tattoos (I told you I was nosy! Several times.)?
What's the craziest/best one you've ever seen?
p.s. No. I am not getting one. I'm too anal--I'd have to have my entire arm done because I'm compulsive like that. Besides, what in the world would I get? It'd have to be coordinated and planned and such, so no. But back to you though ...