Saturday, April 7, 2012


I know, I know. It's been way too long since my last blog post. What can I say? Life's been busy! Between work, kids, fiance, house hunting, and weekend activities with friends when can I find time for blog posting? I can keep up with Twitter and Facebook on my phone, but actually sitting down at the computer is tough for me.

Almost two months ago I went to my first tattoo session for my latest and greatest tattoo. It took a total of two sessions and seven hours. I have 3 other tattoos, but not near this size. I had decided several years back that I wanted to get a tattoo in honor of my grandpa, Chief. I told him I what I planned on doing and he was against it. He is still alive and has been doing dialysis for a few years now. We are not Native American, but my grandpa has always been called Chief. He owns his own paint and body shop, called Chief's Paint & Body, and he has beautiful Indian paintings and statues in his office.

My original idea for this tattoo was 2 small feathers on my upper left back next to the butterflies I have for my kids. As the years went on my idea changed.  I went online and looked for pictures of Indian head dresses. I knew this was the one when I saw it.

I then checked out some local tattoo artists and their portfolios. I picked a guy who did amazing portraits because if someone can ink a picture on the skin to make it look just like the picture then they have some talent.

I was so nervous before my first session. I knew of the pain but had never sat for over 45 minutes.

I couldn't believe I was about to get this done!

No turning back now!

I lasted for 3 1/2 hours. A grueling 3 1/2 hours.

My attempts at capturing photos.

You can see above the empty feathers. He sure took care of that in the second session!

This is a picture of what I saw. I was shocked for a split second before realizing he was inking with red.

My arm was so swollen and hot by the time he was finished.

I couldn't wait for it to heal already! Haha!

Drum roll please.......

I went to visit my grandpa after the first session and I will never forget the look of disapointment in his eyes when he saw it. As soon as he touched my ink the look faded into disbelief. All he could do was touch my arm and rub the tattoo. Touch some more. Squeeze my arm. Then rub again. I didn't care what he said, his touch said everything I needed to know.