A tattoo

We kept on building on what’s going to become a full sleeve filled with old stuff this Thursday, and I do believe it was the worst tattoo session so far for me. I DO HAVE a chest piece that took 11 hours split in three to finish that I bit through, but this little measly 1.5 hour session was TORTURE. I don’t know if it’s my age, if I’m going ill or if it’s just that bad around the inside of the elbow, but it was worse than being carved on my breast bone. Gosh.

I screamed when it was like a minute to go and told the tattooer that WE’LL FINISIH THIS LATER ON I NEED TO END THIS NOW. A year ago, I tattooed an owl in the exact same place on the other arm, completely in color. It took almost four hours to make, and I sat through it and surfed my phone. It sucked, but it wasn’t THAT bad.

I guess I’ll have to sacrifice a garlic laden potato croquette to the gods before next session, I have so much more I want to get done!  

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Stencil setting.

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No. Do over!

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The stencil stuff is potent.

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There! 

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Terror!

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Ugh.

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The only piece that isn’t done are the little triangles at the bottom of the picture. That’s all that got left. My poor tattooer stared at me like “COME ON ELLET GET YOURSELF TOGETHER” but I had already made up my mine, haha.

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Having plastic on the first night is soo good. 

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Tada!

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The motif is straight up taken from an iron age picture stone from Vallstena on Gotland. The couple is in the real form of a little Viking age “gold man” from Ekerö, a tiny little 9 mm golden sheet with the pattern imprinted on it. Love it!

We’re putting on some space fillers and then continuing up the arm later on, when I dare do it… I need to grow a vagina and just do it.