At A Glance Author northern lights Contact northern lights@bme.anon IAM northern lights When Ten years ago or more Artist Me Studio At Home This is the story of my attempt to tattoo myself, which has resulted in a small constellation of black freckles on my left forearm that I am really quite attached to now, despite the circumstances in which they were acquired.
State of Mind
When I was 16 I was not very happy. The perspective of age tells me that this is a fairly common occurrence for 16 year olds! Still, at the time perspective seemed impossible to find and I seemed to be sinking without trace in negative emotions. I quit college after two weeks of trying to study my A-levels. I was experiencing panic and paranoia just from sitting in the same room as large numbers of my peers. Evidently I hadn't really got over some bullying issues I'd experienced back at school, but quitting college didn't help much as it was merely running away from the problem. Back at home I didn't have any idea how to begin sorting myself out. My mum was less than keen on me sitting at home doing nothing so I started a printing apprenticeship. Looking back this was an interesting way to spend a year, but it was also the lowest period of my life emotionally.
During this time the interest in marking myself that had emerged in my earlier teenage years started to become an expression of the negative emotions I was feeling. I began to scratch at my arms in a way that was related to self hate and loathing and a fear that I was fading away and disappearing. The sight of my blood made me feel real again. I also seemed to be punishing myself for so many perceived faults and for seemingly messing my life up. My self esteem was, shall we say, a little low! This mainly comprised scratches but moved on to little slices when I could steal a stray scalpel from the graphics department at work.
My interest in tattoos also intensified at this time. I was feeling so psychologically adrift that I craved something to pull me back down to earth and root me. I spent hours sketching tattoo designs and craved to see them engraved in my skin. My frustration at being underage was intense but I didn't have the confidence to go to a tattoo shop and try to blag my way in. I had already started to mark my arms with cuts and scratches in a desperate way and it seemed only a small step to try tattooing myself. I was aware it was a pretty crazy idea but I was feeling a little crazy.
Tattooing has gone on to become one of the most positive things in my life. At this stage however, what I ended up doing was a curious emotional hybrid of self-destructive and self-creative urges. I carried out a positive action in a reckless way.
What I Did
This was so long ago and I was in such an odd state of mind that it is hard to recall the details of what I did, but I'll try. Needless to say, though, what I did was very reckless and I could easily have given myself a nasty infected wound. I don't recommend that anyone does this!
So, what could I use to get the ink under my skin? A sewing needle would do! How to sterilise it? Wave it through a candle flame! And as for ink? Break open a biro pen and use that, sure why not? I cringe thinking back to what I did! I can only say that the energy I possessed at the time was certainly not an everyday kind of thing, similar to the energy involved in self harm that enabled me to slash at my skin with no thought of the consequences.
I didn't have any knowledge of how to tattoo, except a vague idea that tattoo machines did their job by driving needles in and out of the skin at high speed. I tried this approach by jabbing the needle over and over to try to make a line, but it seemed difficult to get the ink in that way. Next I tried literally pushing the ink under the skin, almost like sewing the needle through little areas of skin. This resulted in larger dots and allowed me to make an attempt towards a design. I drew a small circle on my arm and started to work around it. Despite having so many beautiful tattoo ideas in my mind I didn't attempt something 'nice' and didn't even finish off the circle design. It is partially visible as an arc shape. Aside from the arc I can still see the dots where I experimented with different ways of applying the ink. All these marks are now visible as faded blue-black freckles, quite subtle amongst my natural brown freckles.
How I Feel About it Now
I wouldn't change it for the world! It is a small comforting presence. I like the way it looks, the natural way it blends in; a message from my past self, a small spell. It has managed to have positive influence on me despite being born of pain.
The positive aspect is that in a weird way it reminds me that I am capable of great determination and commitment to following the path that feels right to me. At the time it seemed I had lost my way. I was working in a job that felt very wrong and I felt powerless to sort myself out and find a positive path. I also felt powerless to become involved in positive things that interested me, such as tattooing and I guess this little experiment showed me it was possible. Despite being un-nerved by how I carried it out, I felt thrilled that I had succeeded in getting ink under my skin permanently.
Only one person has commented after noticing my black freckles and that was the tattooist who did my left wrist tattoo. He said I should get them covered up as soon as I could, but I knew that's not what I would be doing, that I wasn't ashamed or regretful of them. I wouldn't want the arc to be completed into a circle as to me it is complete just as it is despite being totally abstract; a crystallisation, a small glimpse into an area of the past, as valuable to me in its way as anything else.
Warning!
Lastly I must emphasise that I do not recommend doing this. I behaved unwisely under the influence of strong emotion and impatience. DIY tattoos can be a lot more hygienic and safe than this, but ultimately I would always recommend going to a professional for a tattoo. Also, patience can be a great virtue when it comes to getting tattoos, as I have learned in the years since I was a 16 year old who felt she couldn't wait!