Turtle tsunami in indelible ink: picturing migration

The image speaks a thousand words. There was a time when Britannia ruled the waves. Now command is given over to a paniolo turtle to ride the salt water wave in indelible embrace.

A faded migratory swallow scattered so long ago by Victoria's pink paintbrush is encircled today by leaf and flower: ears tuned to the call of angel's trumpet
Finally I did that second tattoo which I have been promising myself for oh such a long time now. It was going to be done to mark a significant birthday but one thing and another happened or didn't happen and now here it is, 15 months late: completion. Fresh from the needles, the ink still wet literally, in the tattoo parlour.

After much thought I chose Suzy Todd who works out of Madame Lazongas, an all woman tattoo shop in downtown Seattle. Suzy has a sure and gentle hand. Whilst still wearing braces on her teeth, this young lady is radiant with a lunar luminosity of extraordinary translucent paleness.

I had forgotten how painful tattoos are. There's nothing can ease the self-invited pain, but frequent use of a soothing peppermint swab to clear the blood, ink and sweat helps. The procedure bordered on unbearable at times and had me playing with mental notions of what constitutes too much, leaning hard on those limits of endurance.

Before I forget again let me get it down in writing: tattoos HURT. A wasp sting kind of painful that goes on and on - especially if you have full colour as I chose to. The application of colour seems to hurt more than the cleanness of line drawing. Different parts of the body are definitely more sensitive. Those curving leaves and the angel trumpet flower over the top of the shoulder - they HURT. So too the waves breaking around the inner arm.

Actually it all pretty much all hurt. Repeat after me: tattoos are not for the timid. They hurt.And carry on hurting whilst they heal.

As much sweat, blood and far more ink today, than the first little swallow 30 years ago who flew in from Old Al (long dead now) in Lower Main Road, Woodstock, Cape Town.

This time around I sketched the design, emailed it and photographs of my arm to Suzy, who then adapted it for inking in a serene studio surrounded by Laxmi, Buddha and an abundance of peonies. Suzy did suggest recolouring the Old Al swallow but I decided to retain her faded glory intact.