When I was 14, I was asked what I would want as my epitaph. The best I could come up with, after a few minutes of serious thought, was "It seemed like a good idea at the time." Twenty years later, that's still the best I can explain about why I do anything.
A flurry of updates, part 1: The tattoo is finished
So I got the color finished on my tattoo a couple weeks ago. It was super-bright at first, then it peeled and looked extra-gross, and now it's pretty much fully healed.
I really love the colors. I love her eye. I love the white, and how as my tan is fading the white pops more and more. I think the shading on the flowers and leaves is brilliant, and I'm really happy with the dotwork type shading on the horse.
I spend quite a bit of time looking at my arm and going "awww yeah, that's badass." And I suppose that's the highest compliment one can pay a tattoo artist?