Today I did a bit more work on my Nana and Pops memorial tattoo... I finished the boy swallow. I was really pleased with the colors on this one as well. These colors are significant to both me and my Pop.
I remember when I was about 8 my Pop had this great old Caddy (he loved his Cadillacs). Well he had it painted in these great retro colors, green and blue. He was so proud when he brought it home from the shop so off he went to cruise around and show it off. WELL, when he brought it up to our house my Dad took one look at it and almost fell over laughing. Dad thought it was the ugliest color scheme he ever saw... I on the other hand thought that it was the most bad ass car I ever laid eyes on. Pop took me for a drive... we went for ice cream and mini golf and I thought I was the coolest kid alive as we drove around listening to Dean Martin the world seemed to just go away. My Pop was one in a million... he was an immigrant from Cornwall, England... he had the best accent and a deep growl to his voice. He was silly and yet refined at the same time. He never left the house without wearing a suit and tie and a pocket full of Tic Tacs (orange). He drove fast and drove till the day he died with an accumulation of speeding tickets to rival any stock car driver. I like to blame my Pop for my obession with mid century vintage, especially cars, more over Cadillacs. Pop was the senior citizen equivillant of the Transporter... he was saying "respect a man's car" in the 80's. He was the coolest. He resembled Anthony Hopkins, but a 6'2" version, slender, completely bald, moved like a cat. Spoke with authority and yet there was a kindness you could feel in his voice. And he had the bluest eyes I had ever seen in my life, they would smile when he laughed. Pop was a cool cat, to the day he died he was just cool, he oozed it.
This was pretty brutal to do on myself. I had my left leg twisted around to the left kicked out on the bed in the Bat Cave, very attractive to watch I'm sure. Another tattoo done on cam with Carl... OMG and his mom walked in while he was watching me work. At least I had pants on... that could've been far worse than it was considering I sat all morning in my undies playing Dead Rising, but all I can think now is she must think I'm bat shit crazy. I'm a bit embarassed tho I'm told it's cool still I feel like a crazy American girl corrupting her English gentleman son and now his mom knows it... EEEEK! Story of my life...
The tattoo is definately moving along as sketched although it's running into days instead of one sitting... now the healling process and in 3-4 weeks the banner will be added. Should've stuck with the yoga... maybe i wouldn't be so damn sore right now. I feel like I was beat up from the 2 days and 4 hours of twisting like a preztel. At least I get a break from it for a couple weeks, that is unless I start on my other leg.