I got my first tattoo when I was 19. A friend drove me through to Jo’burg to one of the few reputable tattoo parlours that existed in Gauteng back then. It hurt much more than I expected but I was thrilled by the result. I showed it off whenever the occasion permitted. I had been planning that tattoo since I was 7. Reaching goals is a good thing, right?
Fast forward through large amounts of living to the present day (add a music montage if you like) and my little tattoo is looking more like something you would find on a sailor. Blurred lines hint at what used to be a pretty awesome tattoo (at least, I thought so). I told my mom that one has to repaint one’s house every once and while. And boy, my paint job needs maintenance, so tomorrow I am going for a touch-up. I found a tattoo artist that does beautiful work and after facebook stalking his page for more than a year I finally made an appointment.
Tonight is the last night of blurred lines in this house. Tomorrow will hopefully bring some awesome ink. *tries not to bounce too much*