Alright, so I figured, you know, a simple tattoo. How hard could that be? Just a little something, clean lines, nothing crazy. I’d seen tons of ’em online, looking all minimalist and cool. Easy peasy, right? That was my first thought, anyway. Turns out, “simple” can have its own set of twists.
First off, I actually had to decide on what this “simple” thing was gonna be. Spent a good few evenings just scrolling, sketching little ideas on scrap paper. You’d think “simple” means less choice, but somehow it felt like more pressure. It had to be just right, you know? Eventually, I settled on a very basic geometric shape. Something small, something I wouldn’t get tired of, or so I hoped.
Then came the fun part: finding someone to do it. I emailed a couple of artists whose work I liked. Some didn’t even reply. Maybe my idea was too small, not worth their time, who knows. One artist I talked to seemed almost… bored by it? Like, “Oh, another one of those.” That was a bit deflating, gotta be honest. I wasn’t asking for a full back piece, just a tiny, neat design. Eventually, I found a younger artist at a local shop who seemed cool with it. We chatted for a bit, I showed them my clumsy sketch, and they were like, “Yeah, I can do that.” Relief, man.
We booked the appointment. The day came, and I walked into the studio. It was all very professional, clean, you know the drill. I was still a bit nervous, even though it was supposed to be “simple.” The artist printed out the stencil. We then spent a surprising amount of time figuring out the exact placement. Moved it a millimeter this way, a millimeter that way. For such a small thing, it felt like a major decision. “Higher? Lower? Bit to the left?” My arm was getting tired of being held up.
Finally, we agreed. I lay down, or rather, sat in the chair. Then came the buzz of the machine. I braced myself. And you know what? It wasn’t too bad. It definitely stung, don’t get me wrong, but because it was simple, it was also pretty quick. The artist was super focused, wiping and checking. I mostly just stared at the ceiling tiles, trying to breathe normally.
Before I knew it, they were saying, “All done!” They cleaned it up, wrapped it, and gave me the aftercare instructions. I looked at it. Yep, there it was. My simple tattoo. It looked good, exactly what I wanted. Clean, sharp.
The healing process was pretty straightforward too. Lots of washing gently, applying the ointment. It got a bit itchy, as they do. For something so small, it still made its presence known for a week or two. But it healed up nicely.
So yeah, the simple tattoo. It was simple in the end, I guess. But the whole journey to get there? It had more steps and more little thoughts than I initially anticipated. It wasn’t just “walk in, get zapped, walk out.” There’s always a bit more to it, even with the simple stuff. That’s just how things go, I suppose. Still glad I did it, though. It’s my little thing now.
