XV on the fifteenth.

hey guys!
guess what?
today is the day.
like, for real, it's the one.
a big one, even.
mmhmmm.
today makes it officially fifteen F*ing years since i began tattooing.
that's a thing.
it's been fifteen years since i tattbombed my very first one.
back on on my old friend metal mitch gibbs,
and when i did it, oh MAN....
i did it very poorly, unbelievably slow-paced,
and with nervous trepidation about my dearth of applicable skills.
i doo-doo that terrible learning curve-style sh!t.
yup.
fifteen years later,
i'm at least a whole lot faster at it, anyway.
for serious.
dudes,
fifteen YEARS.
a decade, and then a whole other 'nother other half of a second decade.
gross.
when i was fifteen years old,
i couldn't even imagine doing anything for as long as my whole life up until that point.
don't get me wrong, neighbors.
tattooing has been good to me,
like a semi-abusive codependant stockholm syndrome sort of a thing.
i mean it.
it keeps me hooked, even when i hate it.
and sure,  through this career path, like a pathogen pathway,
i get systemic destruction.
a little lower lumbar brokeback white mountain sh!t,
sideways fingers pointing at an awful angle,
and a whole slew of unfortunate alterations to my original packaging....
and that was pretty busted to begin with.
awwwwww, man.
and don't think i'm not grateful.
because i AM.
tattooing and the collateral activation that comes with it affords me all the means
motivation and opportunity to do lots of other stuff.
and yeah, very little of the stuff has to do with tattoo culture,
most of which i actively shun and/or reject.
i do what i do.
and i do tattoos, too.
it's part of a big picture.
a symphony, really,
and tattooing may be the flutes and piccolos.
necessary for all the minky nancypants parts,
but by no means the F*ing tubas.
the rest of my life is the big brass section, and the kettledrums....
but,
in my version of peter and the (were)wolf,
those flutes are still pretty flippin' important.
-
anyway,
i have the day off.
there was, for a little moment, the temptation to mark the occasion with a tattoo,
inflicted on myself as a little tribute to the milestone.
then,
upon immediate reconsideration,
i realized the very last place i wanted to be today was in a tattoo studio.
so instead,
my lady and i went downeast,
and tuned up a terrific celebratory lunch.
check the teleport:

man oh man,
i must be getting even older than i thought.
we munched up hours ago,
and i'm STILL feeling disgustingly full.
that's a good thing, though.
it just means i did it right.
***********
fifteen years gone by.
all of it, every moment, every minute;
every town, every state, everywhere and every when;
every terrible ending,
every exciting new beginning....
tattooing has been the hub the rest overlaps and revolves around.
it's all connected,
and all of it is part of the worst true story i've ever heard.
this is my real life,
that's the most comforting and uncomfortable thing;
never quiet, never soft, never enough.....