The itch truly never goes away. Once I got my first it quickly turned into three. It had taken me years to finally decide on what I wanted to get and where I wanted to place them. Then the challenge of finding the right artist for the job was in full effect. It didn't take long for me to find an artist who knew how to handle a new client and walk me through the process of permanently marking me body. I told him what I wanted and he delivered with more than I had asked for.
I quickly got used to the little bit of pain involved while I sat there for 6 hours getting all the fine line and details inked into my skin. I was pretty beat at the end of my first session but couldn't wait for the next session to get it finished. The next session for color and shading seemed to fly by and the finished product in the words of my tattoo artist came out to be "Fucking Awesome" I was a happy customer.
Months later I got my second and a few more later my third was done. I built a relationship with my artist in little over a year and he and the rest of the shop felt like family. When you have someone using a needle working on your body, there has to be a level of trust and respect. I got that from my tattoo artist and them some.
Six months ago I recieved tragic news that my tattoo artist had passed. It was news nobody ever wants to get, especially weeks before you had an appointment with that person. My artist was a big time comic book fan and while on vacation I had bought him a vintage Batman 1st edition comic book cover sign. I was going to surprise him at the end of the touch up session with it. Now the sign hangs in my room as an ode to my late friend.
Since then I've been on the search for a new artist who I hope to connect with the way I did with my former artist. Until then I just continue to admire the pieces of art I'll forever wear on my skin.
