I was examining my tattoo last night, and I realized that it's changed a little bit--the outlines are a little fuzzed, making her skin color a little darker. (Those of you who have seen my tattoo would do well not to consider the contortions involved with getting a close look at it. Just a little tip from me to you.) While Val was taking a break from inking it to let my legs wake back up, he told me that over the years it would become different. The test of a good tattoo, he said, was that you still like it, regardless--that you and your piece age well together.
At the time, I thought it was a bunch of sentimental tattoo artist junk. And I hadn't thought about it in years, right up until last night. We'll have been together six years in September, my tattoo and I, and so far I still love it.
It's just nice to check in with these things, sometimes.
I know I've said this before, but I really ought to be in a band so that I can play the tambourine and dabble in extreme fashion.
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