I Designed My Tattoo Myself (Kind Of)

In the spring 2003, I was just starting to heal from one of the worst moments in my entire life. I won’t get into the details because it is all in the past and I don’t want to dwell on those things anymore. I know now that it was for the better (thank you Carly), but at the time I was devastated. We have all heard the first break up story. It got so bad that I stopped calling people and never left the house. Eventually, both of my closest friends Randy and Chad got concerned and came to see me. Both were supportive, but knew I needed a kick in the ass. I am paraphrasing, but they both said something like this:

“You have had your moment to be sad. Now it is time for you to move on. You have other things to do and you need to focus on those things.”

They were right (as they usually are, dammit!), and so I began planning the next chapters in my life by making a list of all the things I wanted to do. One of those goals was to get a tattoo and design it myself. It was something I could do whenever I wanted to and now was as good a time as any. So I searched on the internet for pictures of crosses. I must have had 100’s of different designs on my computer. Celtic, Wooden, Roman Catholic styles – you name it, I had it on my computer to look at. I then narrowed it down to a few different designs, noting best parts of each, and brought them to a local tattoo shop that had been recommended by a few people I trusted with my health. I sat with this guy named Joe and we talked about what I wanted for my tattoo. I showed him several of the designs I had found and expressed ideas of how to combine them together. We sat for almost and hour and sketched out different ideas on an easel in one of the tat’ rooms. He like my initiative and said he would need to take these home in order to design something that would fit my arm and still pop out. He said this would also give me some time to really think about my decision before I did it. Little did he know, I had made my decision to get a tattoo a long time ago. Trouble was that I was still debating whether or not to put a bible verse on there in addition. I had been reading passages of the bible for help coping with my sadness. Eventually, I finally found one that really spoke to me:

"Blessed is the man that endures trial, for when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God gives to those who love him." ~ James 1:12

It told me that as long as I lived a good life and did the best that I could with what I am given, then I would be okay. It’s something I will always believe.

The next day, I showed up full of adrenaline and extra vitamin k as prescribed by a mildly disapproving doctor so I would not bleed too much. Joe showed me his minor changes to the drawing. He had thickened the lines to give them depth and suggested that I pick some colors to really make my tattoo come alive. I chose purple for my grandmother who passed away from leukemia, gold for my sister who passed away from Cystic Fibrosis, and red for “life”. I was really happy with my tattoo design and so a few waivers signed and $150 bucks later, we were ready to roll.

It’s hard to say what went through my mind seconds before the needle touched my skin. I remember a little panic, a lot of adrenaline and utter shock that my body would be forever decorated. My arm gently shook as the needle rapidly pierced my skin and the blood began trickling down my arm. Surprisingly, there was very little pain until we were near top of my shoulder at the end of my collar bone. At that point the vibration of the needle would jar my entire shoulder and neck. It didn’t hurt as much as make me cringe, like nails on a chalkboard. Luckily, there was little of the tattoo near that area, so the discomfort was momentary. First the black outline, then the red “base color”, then the gold and purple. Finally, “James 1:12” underneath the cross. It looked fantastic!

I had always wanted a tattoo, but never found anything worth permanently placing on my body. Plus, I would be a liar if I didn’t say it there was a small amount of vanity in getting it. Too me, there is something cool about tattoos. There was an aura of toughness that surrounded them. Plus, maybe some ladies would think I was sexy! Those were reasons, but they were honestly very small reasons. The real reason was that for the first time I made a decision whether or not to alter my body. Usually my body makes all the decisions and I have no choice but to go along for the ride. This time it was all me and I suppose that was a little empowering.

I left the tattoo parlor with a smile on my face and a bandage on my arm stained with blood. After a few days of scabbing over (as gross as it sounds), my tattoo was in full view…under my shirt sleeve. I decided to get it in a spot where it could be covered because, as cool as it was, it was my personal statement and I wanted to decided who would be able to see it. I am glad I did too, as it has become a great conversation starter in the summer months when I would scratch my arm and move my shirt sleeve or take my shirt off to go swimming, only to have someone one say “Oh my God! You have a tattoo! When did you get that?!” I always chuckle and tell them the story. Recently, I was asked to be in a wedding and the guys in the wedding party were all changing at the church making sure our tuxes fit, when my friend Aaron leans over and says, “God, look at Mogren! He is the only one who looks like a bad ass when he takes his shirt off!” We all chuckled and I was a little embarrassed because sometimes I forget it is there.

My tattoo has continued to change along with me. Its colors are faded, it has its imperfection that you don’t notice until you examine it closely, but the meaning remains the same. It is a reminder of the past and present. It was one of my best decisions ever.


See you next week!

Peaceful Things,

Josh