BB's dirty thoughts Mar.2

Imagine the vivacious eyes of a Drop Dead Gorgeous woman, man, or androgyne; whatever suits your fancy tonight. Imagine that gaze; forest green, soul-piercing blue, amber gold, violet, so brown they're black- you know the shade, peering up at you with hunger from beneath thick lashes.

Imagine them staring you down with a need as they roll up one sleeve to the cuff. They could have a stunning manicure, a workman's scarred hands, or simply clipped and clean, adorned in a tasteful smattering of rockstar rings. But as that hand-working, beautiful arm is revealed to you, you see the sleeve running up their forearm. Animaliann, maybe, or nature- maybe realism, or colour work. Every inch of it a reflection of their tastes and who they are as a person, every inch earned though painful meditation, a marker of their hard-won fortitude... and perhaps a slight taste for the kiss of pain. But certainly a badge of pride, a battle scar hung in artful sweeps.

Their hand reaches to clasp your jaw, and you can see the designs running up and underneath clothing, whispering of places unseen....

....ladies and gentles, the deliciousness of the tattoo.

Now, not every tattoo is gorgeous, of course. Taste is a subject matter for question, artistry, and how well the the artist and canvas collaborated. Some bodies- though rare- are better without markings. But foolish is the set of lips that speaks the old adage "the Mona Lisa wouldn't look good with graffiti on it"- such silly children have never heard of the Sistine Chapel.

And oh, how I would kneel before it's mighty grace and pray... to the art museum that is the inked up God or Goddess, making their body my temple.

(Funny story, baby Bordeaux once said that. I've since learned far, far better- 19 year olds are idiots. XD)

Sliding your tongue over a soft crevice whilst turning your gaze up unforgettable, intricate patterns is a Delicacy. I happen to be exceptionally fond of sleeve work, of illustration, oh horror and gothic, of arcane and alchemical, with the OCCASIONAL taste for something nerdy yet not obvious. Something to communicate to other fans in comraderic winks.

The experience of getting a tattoo is multivarious- the types of pain change and oscillate, and very definitely are more or less intense depending on placement. Certain parts of the upper arm were practically a walk in the park, and along my foot and ankle bone is some of the sharpest, most present pain I've ever experienced. (I like to joke "burning, vibrating scalpel". But even that is a meditation of a kind... you find bliss and tranquil nothingness through that bright sharp red, as opposed to through it's opposite, through soft, self-accepting serenity. One thing I can say for certain- whether you're a pain slut or a master of all things strong... there is not a SOUL I KNOW who sits down for their first piece and doesn't get bitten by "The Bug"- the burning desire for more.

The adrenaline that dumps into your veins some minutes in is part of it- about 30 minutes in, the pain becomes significantly lessened and many experience a kind of high- GOD I do. It's practically erotic. After a long enough session, that will wear off, but that's what multiple sessions are for. Or, you can just breathe, listen to music or podcasts and tough it- I did for 5.5 hours on my forearm. The first hour or two was Magical, but by hour three, it was just breathing and suffering for beauty. XD But it was worth it; it is perhaps my most complimented piece. It summarized and encases aspects of who I am, and means that even at my Yoga-Pantsiest (and DEFINITELY in evening wear, suits or sexy cocktail dresses), I am stylish as fuck.

Tattoos become stories; stories that want to be heard. If you're lucky, you can hear a personal tale of something beautiful, tragic or valuable- or perhaps a bitchin' story of travelling to snag an artist that only books 2-3 years out. Some are meaningless thrills gotten for their own sake. Memorials. Tributes. Bits of pieces of a life well lived. Or cheap, valueless trash XD! It all depends on the person. Some love to share their stories; I LOVE a good tattoo story- when prompted of course, and I'm interested in the person. Oversharing tattoo stories happens a LOT, not everyone wants to hear you spill your guts. But some love it- as I said, I Love a good tattoo origin story.

But the point remains: tattoos are Sexy As Hell.

Tell us about yours! Or plans!