The anticipation builds as I eat breakfast. A large full plate of not so healthy options. Sustenance for the coming hours, energy to deal with the adrenalin rush to follow.
My mind races ahead, what will the design look like? The final version awaits me at the studio and as I head there my pace quickens in time with my racing heart.
Once inside the design is revealed. Final tweaks discussed and then the cold wipe of alcohol and the sharp blade of the razor preps the skin. A cold shiver.
The design is lined up, checked and double checked. In the mirror the first glimpse of what the future holds. Excitement levels peak.
It begins. Positioned on the bench, the spotlight in place, the inks laid out. A short buzz to check the equipment and the first sharp drag on my skin.
The noise amplifies the sensation as the needles drive the ink into my skin. I breath deep as the gun moves to a tender area, breathing through the pain. The gun moves on and the dull pull on my skin becomes a calmng balm. I close my eyes and fade away into the sensation.
Hours later it’s over. Swathed in protective gel and clingfilm, I thank the artist and tenderly make my home.
I feel elated but wrung out. The buzz buzz buzz of the needle reverberates still as the chemicals in my system kick-in. Sugar needed to avoid the drop.
More sessions in the weeks to come. Repeat, repeat, repeat. The final art on my skin a permanent reminder, a badge.
Mine.