Hehehe, I did get tatt'ed on August 30th, but not this one, in the end. I am not going to post a picture here - but you can see a few photos on the mine and the artist's FB page. It's a picture of the goddess Athena, and I am pretty happy about my final choice.
Now, the reason I decided against this picture in particular has a lot to do with why I chose it in the first place: I wanted to get a picture of St Christopher, as my family hails from a small Spanish village with the name of "San Cristóbal". And, while I am not particularly religious, I instantly noticed the similarities between the artistic depictions of Ningauble and St Christopher: A hooded man, possibly standing in the shadow of a cursed tree, with a face "marred with sin". This "sin" is usually depicted by (especially Eastern European) artists depicting St Christopher as a man with a dog's face; another artistic depiction of sin, and the devil, in Catholic art, in general, is the number seven, and, of course, the stars, and the night sky. - So, yeah, it is possible to depict Ningauble of the Seven Eyes with the same attributes as the Christian Saint. That dualism, I found pretty appropriate for a tattoo that goes in the company of the dragon Glaurung, and a stately raven of the saintly days of yore. (Yeah, a nerd is me.)
But, and that's the thing, short version is, it's the right tat for the wrong guy, if you will. As a few of you who've met me might know, all of my many tattoos, I treat as roadmarks: I am not the guy who needs two weeks on some beach to detox, I get tattooed whenever I need a break, or come to a turning point in my life. Now, the turning point this time was, if you will, that I buried my dad earlier this year, and then spent the next few months cleaning out my parents' old house. You know, that part when you spend every weekend sitting atop a pile of rubbish, listening to Michael Connelly audiobooks, and gazing thoughtfully at old stuff from wardrobes and boxes that has not been out for at least two decades... And then, unceremoniously throw it into one of those cold and neutral plastic garbage bags. - So, loss, discontinuation, and a certain cathartic progress have been very present feelings in my life; before 2018, I'll have sold the house, taken another job in another town again, and, in a very general and impersonal sense, have moved on, apart from the occasional birthday, baptism, and beerfest visits.
As my girl, the Ever-Wise Mrs Squirrel, who is way less sinister and also more hands-on than me, pointed out, that's a very romantic notion, because I am a homeless Knight Errand now, hell yeah. But it's not the moment when you tattoo a devil on your arm, plainly and simply. Like, my upbringing has made me many things, but not *that*. Ten years ago, when I moved out from my parents place for the first time, I got a tattoo of a chubby white knight, who playfully carried along the monster he supposedly had just knocked out. (Sir Oblong Fitz-Oblong! ) I can't cap off that story by stitching the antithesis of that character on my skin.
Now, why am I sharing this? Am I oversharing? - Hell yeah. But then, I think it's somewhat important to reflect on things like that in the open, as well. Especially many men, if they retain a certain sense of youthful idealism, they identify with increasingly dark imagery. I've had the dubious honor to work at a tattoo parlor for a time, and most dudes who entered, regardless of age or social status, they wanted the usual drawings that embodied "darkness" and "might" to them. I can only advise people not to do that. With the years, it becomes a monument to your own wayward depression. - Because most people are not that dark, really. Like, I, for example, am not. And I bet most of you aren't, either, regardless of how much poop we all have to live through.
Though yeah, a black cape would be a real cool thing to wear to work. Which is where I am going now. After breakfast, and dawn, and that black gold that is coffee.
Until next time!
Last Edit: Sept 19, 2016 22:15:15 GMT -6 by Rafael