A tale of tattoo cities.

I have wanted to be tattooed for as long as I can remember.
It was never a burning passion, I just appreciate good art, and especially when it's fixed onto people's skin. It's something I've always found beautiful.

I was in college when I started planning my first tattoo.

I wanted this on my hip.

Yes, I KNOW it's a tribal turtle. As fate would have it, I was saved from this terrible thing being on my skin forever by a rather nasty car accident. Tattoos got put on the back burner when I had several broken things to heal and strength to regain in my leg if I wanted to walk like a normal person again.

Fast forward 4 years, and I'm in a tattoo shop here in Christchurch, Planet tattoo, getting a man to shove a needle through my nose. And I thought hey, while I'm here....

I had a chat with a friendly young man named Elias. He drew a design, I loved it, I booked my appointment. Was totally psyched to FINALLY be getting inked.

A photo taken a few hours after it was done.

What it looks like now, almost a year later.

I was an absolute horror on the day. I'm surprised the poor bastard's head didn't explode with frustration.

I thought the best way to get through the pain was to talk constantly.

This went on for the first half an hour, Elias telling me to relax, me babbling ceaselessly to my bored friend about what we should have for lunch and other mundane crap, until I realised two things.

1. The constant talking was doing nothing to alleviate the pain, which
2. wasn't that bad anyway.

Eventually I took his advice, and when I did I felt so much better! Turns out when you brace against the pain, it makes it feel so much worse. I chilled the fuck out, tried to focus more on the vibration of the machine than the needle point, and left the place with a massive smile.

Since then I've been tattooed quite a bit. Dating a skilled tattoo artist has led to most of them.

My second tattoo, for my grandparents, who were less than impressed.
Actually they almost throttled me when they saw it.

The first tattoo Dreadlock Steve did for me. It is a painting by the awesome  Brian Froud, as are the rest of the faeries in my yet-to-be-completed faery sleeve.

My latest faery, on the inside of the forearm. He hurt like a motherbitch. He's one of the bad faeries and I love him.

My Sink faery. Brian Froud says "This malodorous creature lives down the drain."
I think he's hilarious.

The owl on my inner arm. Thinking of covering this one and having him re-done somewhere else. Love the tattoo but the placement bugs me.

This fills the awkward space between the end of my rose and my elbow. It's the save point symbol from the video game Silent Hill 3, with the names of two special people worked into it by me.

My lasting reminder of the first tattoo convention I went to. By a brutal German lady named Christineth Burlton.

My awesome steampunk girl, Lola. She had a rough time healing, so her hair is patchy where it's scarred. She'll be restored to her full prettiness one day. She is an original design by Dreadlock Steve.

My latest additions, by the wonderful Jules at Maid of Ink
in Lyttelton.

I have a decent collection so far, and I hope this year yields even more beautiful works of art that I get to wear forever!

If you're thinking of getting tattooed, make sure you choose a clean, professional studio (If you let your drunk mate have a go with the tattoo equipment he bought on Trademe and the skills he learned in prison, you'll end up in one wanting the mess covered up anyway, so save yourself the hassle and pay a little more for an actual work of art, mmkay?) and check out the artist's work and discuss your ideas with them.

If you'd like to check out Dreadlock Steve's work or find his shop, Google The Ink Spot or look it up on Facebook and you'll find him. Do it. He's like, really good.