this is an experience about my most recent tattoo that I submitted to BME

I never do anything halfway, or at least i like to think that I don’t.

Being a vegetarian to me felt like going halfway in living an ethic of compassion in my life, so I went vegan. And
similarly, having a tattoo that covered only part of my arm felt like going halfway to me.

So I decided over the course of several months (probably years, to be honest) that I had to get a sleeve if I was
going to feel complete in any real sense of the word. Now that I basically look like a coloring book not yet colored
in, I always have people asking me why. Why my whole arm? Why tattoos? Why the designs? And in a way, my whys tend to
be almost inarticulable. I knew what I wanted and I knew why in a way that was a part of me, but to explain it in
terms that anyone else would get was tough. It isn’t like I’m trying to be some kind of deep enigma or anything, but
in a lot of ways, getting this sleeve felt to me like scratching an itch that I had deep down. Still, I thought for
this experience, it might be good to talk about some of the reasons that I decided to get a whole sleeve done, and
why I probably won’t stop here.

Apart from scratching that itch, though, why do I like having ink in my skin, particularly ink that can be seen
publicly? Well, for one thing, it is a reassertion of the fact that my body is, without doubt, mine. We have to
maintain our bodies in a million ways to please other people, to be presentable for family, friends, society, the
law, and who knows who else, and for me, getting some ink that’s so very public is not only a way of scratching that
itch, but also a way of me communicating to myself that I’m ultimately the one who gets to decide about me and what I
do with my body. I don’t work in the most conservative of occupations (college professor) but there’s still this
expectation that I’ll carry myself in a particular way, dress in an ‘acceptable’ manner, and present myself
‘professionally.’ It isn’t that tattoos prevent me from being professional, but they do stake out some real territory
that lets people know that this body is mine, I do with it as I please, and I don’t particularly give a fuck if you
don’t like what I’ve done with it.

Selfish, isn’t it? But why else should you get a tattoo? If it ain’t for you, who is it for? In this way, then, my
work helps to separate me from a sort of world that I don’t necessarily want to conform to. In all honesty, though,
the rebellious aspect of this isn’t really even half of it; the major part of all of this for me is scratching that
itch, and the itch feels almost instinctual, or primal, or at some kind of level that is really just beyond words.
Maybe this sounds cheezy or maybe you know exactly what I mean.

Finally, as for reasons: at the most basic level, tattoos are just completely fucking hot. ‘nuf said!

All of these ideas were the things kicking around in my head as I started out the work on my sleeve, which will be my
biggest tattoo project thusfar. Actually, it’ll be the first project that I’ve done that will require multiple
sittings.

When I decided to get a sleeve, I knew it’d be an extension of the fairly big piece that I’d already had on my right
arm, a traditional Japanese koi, in a sweeping wave, with a few cherry blossoms. For the extension of this piece into
a sleeve, I decided that I wanted another koi, differently colored, swimming up my forearm, surrounded by dark waves,
more cherry blossoms, and chrysanthemums. I worked with John at Sfumato Tattoo in Ithaca, NY (who did the original
piece) to extend the sleeve, giving him some ideas, and he worked with them to come up with an excellent sleeve
design that includes sweeping waves, and a real sense of motion and depth.

After we sorted out the design, the day to get the outline came. John had a few ideas already drawn out, but most of
the work he was going to freehand on me, after stenciling on the major pieces of the sleeve. Once we got the major
elements placed, John began drawing on me, running lines from the top of my arm down, twisting around my entire arm,
essentially pulling the whole piece together. In addition to this, he drew in cresting waves, little water bubbles,
and other waves and swirls. All in all, it took John a few hours to really get the design ‘just right,’ and the care
that he showed was impressive. What I always liked about John is that he has an excellent eye, a good sense of
proportion, and a real talent for understanding how the art of a tattoo fits on the body. He is truly an artist who
uses tattoos as one of his media, and his shop is oriented around this kind of custom work.

With the outline in place, John began on my upper forearm, working in black to get the sleeve outline inked in this
one sitting. Most of the work went pretty quickly, and wasn’t too bad pain-wise. I have a fairly decent threshold for
pain, and I’m also pretty good at not showing when I’m really suffering. Plus, I’d probably had at least 15 hours of
other work done in my life, so I was no real newbie. Everything was pretty cool, but I have to say this: getting
tattooed in the ditch sucks. It isn’t intolerably bad, just more annoying. What sucked even more, though, was getting
the outline done around my elbow. This was far worse, and I bled a bit and swelled up more than I’d ever swollen up
for any tattoo I’ve ever had.

In a few hours, though, it was over, and I walked out of there with the outline for the sleeve complete. Right now,
it is mostly healed, and I’m going back in a few weeks for my next session, probably 4 or 5 hours. I’ll get more done
over the summer, and hopefully, in a few months, this will be complete. Obviously, I’m anxious to have it all done.
Right now, I can see the major elements of the design, but without the shading, the colors, and everything else, it
just feels so incomplete.

Part of me tells myself that this’ll be it…that after this, the itch will be scratched, and that I won’t need any
more ink for any reason. But another part of me already knows that the itch will probably never be scratched, and
that I’ll probably be here the same time next year or the year after telling you about my next sleeve, or my back
piece, or whatever it is that I decided upon. And that’s totally cool by me if that’s how it goes.

Until then, take care and enjoy the pain.