So I went in for the consultation, and the tattoo artist, a lovely woman named Christy, scaled up my art and fitted it beautifully to my arm, so the top of the kingfisher’s crest and the curve of the wing fit against the curve at the top of my right arm, the body goes down the arm in an almost sleeve-like effect, and the small fish he’s pursuing is nestled right above the crook of my elbow.

It’s…frickin’…huge.

Still. Kingfisher’s symbolism is going fearlessly into the unknown, which is part of the reason I’m getting it. Whatever else they may say about me, O Lord, never let it be said that I was a coward.

The pain in my wallet will likely exceed the pain in my flesh, but hey, sometimes you just do what you gotta do.

She arranged it, checked her schedule, and said brightly “I can fit you in tomorrow afternoon!”

So. Tomorrow afternoon, at 1, I get…major…ink.

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