The guys on BMU started up a Tattoo thread which spurred me to reply:
I got my Tatt’s done in 1995 on April the 7th which was the day in between my fathers death (1 year after) and Kurt Cobains death.
I booked in to 2 Tattoo parlours that night. One was Mischief Moon and the other was The Illustrated Man. I started at Mishief Moon on Oxford Street. Happy was the Tattoo artist. His studio was super clean and cozy, not the type of studio where you pick something off the walls, more like the studios you see now on TV shows. He shut the shop for me, which was awesome. He also let me choose what music I wanted to have playing in the background (I chose the Stone Temple Pilots). Great conversation, great guy, amazing experience (he even counted me in!).
The feeling was a lot like putting a blade in your arm, then dragging it along. Looking at it hurt more than not looking at it and the cold antiseptic spray he used to wipe off the blod felt so good.
Happy gave me a care sheet and nice bandaging and I was off for a walk down to Central to get more tattoos at the Illustrated man, now this shop was a lot different. We’re talking the walk in and choose something off the wall type of shop. The guys were bikies and they had the footy on TV, they didn’t give a shit who I was, didn’t bother talking to me and they did a shocking job to boot. The only good part of the experience at The Illustrated Man was that my best friend Edwina, who I was totally in love with (sigh), sropped in for some support.
I wrote a visual diary in those days. I was super emo. This is my diary entry on April the 7th 1995 with the image I created to go with it:
epilogue number two
It’s the word I have tattooed into my left arm. It’s the seventh of April, the day in between the death of my father and the death of Kurt Cobain. It has been a year now, it feels like it has been a lot longer. I booked in to two tattoo parlours, one on Oxford street at six and one on Elizabeth street at nine. I got three tattoos done tonight. I feel numb now but the pain was nice. I think I love my tattoos more than anything in the world right now, just knowing their there is so satisfying, almost God damn exciting.
OK. It’s hard taking pics of your own Tatt’s but I’ve tried to:
My 1st tattoo. Yes it’s a symbol of biological waste. Kinda where my head was at, what I thought I was. It looked like a flower to me, and also represented a yin yang.
My 2nd tattoo. It’s been done so bad and gets worse and worse without even seeing much sun. It’s an MC Escher piece. 4 lizards (I love lizards). Again, also a yin yang to me.
My 3rd tattoo. I found strength and this was the word which defined where I was at a year after my father passed away. Henry Rollins had a song ” Divine Object Of Hatred”. Some of the lyrics go:
They’d kill to have me
They’d have to kill me
Their hatred’s pure, I am divine
When you kick me / When you rape me
When you burn me / When you break me
When you cut me / I am divine
This was my 4th tattoo, which was a fair bit after the 1st three. It was more because I felt an addiction for getting more ink done and it was an image which was up on Edwina’s wall throughout all the years I hung out with her. Again, it’s the yin yang to me. Happy did this one too. I was meant to go back in for a touch up but I never did go back in.