Many posts back, I asked for feedback about the tattoo I planned to get on my ankle. I had searched through photo after photo online, and come up with a few that might work. I decided on one of them as a “starting point” to take to an artist.
There were a few things I knew I wanted to change: blue was never going to be my color choice, I didn’t think the ears and tail were right, and I wanted the trunk to curve a bit sooner so it could go up higher. I also knew that I would want the artist to make it his/her own. I did not expect or want the artist to “carbon copy” a design for me.
Last week I posted on Facebook that I needed a recommendation for a location to have it done. My sister offered to do it for me. My ex expressed his opinion that I shouldn’t do it (and also acknowledged that it was none of his business). One friend asked if I was drunk, another told me to imagine what it will look like when I am old. My father posted _____ __. I’m not sure what that meant. Anyway, I stuck out my proverbial tongue and told them “You aren’t the boss of me.” Yes, I actually typed those words. My father later gave me a shop based on the reccommendation of his hairdresser.
I checked out Timeless Tattoos online, and looked at the work of all of the artists–not just the two names I had been given. Ironically, it is the first tattoo shop I ever entered (many years ago) trying to find the right elephant. I visited another one in Vegas about 7 or 8 years ago, and have visited others in Atlanta. It has been hard to find the balance between National Geographic and Dumbo to match what was in my head.
I had a fairly unpleasant day at work Thursday, and decided to stop on the way home on a fact finding mission. I spoke to the fabulous Jenny when I entered. I showed her the photo, and she immediately understood what kinds of changes I was looking to make. She sketched it out once and with an additional tweak to the trunk, we were ready to go.
I was happy with it…so off we went. I was nervous about the pain. I think I am tough sometimes, but not always. I totally HATE getting shots and having blood drawn. Everyone kept telling me how much ankles hurt over and over. To be honest, it didn’t really hurt. It was slightly more than uncomfortable, but nowhere near pain. I winced once or twice when she hit a more tender spot, but it was far easier than I expected it to be. After she was finished, we showed it off the the other artists and customers in the shop and I got my goody bag. It included: business cards for Jenny and the shop, stickers for Jenny and the shop, a book of matches, and a Charms blow pop. That made me smile.
So, if you have read this far, you probably want to see a photo of the finished product. I can’t tell you how tough it is to get a clear photo of an ankle. The finished size is “not small.” (Or so I was told when I tried to call it small.) It is 2 x 2 1/2 inches. This is the photo my Poppa took at breakfast today.
By the way, if any of you are on Facebook and we are not friends and you would like to be, shoot me an email. My name is different in real life, so don’t go hunting for “Sophie with the purple elephant tattoo.”