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I don't talk much about my tattoos on here. I'm not ashamed of talking about them, I just never really think to talk about them because my tattoos feel as natural a part of me as my liver or my fingers, and I don't really think to talk about them either.

My brand new ink deserves a mention though, because having taken my own sweet time, I finally go round to having my "family" tattoo started.

I got the inspiration for this piece from a milk carton holder I saw in a craft shop in Gib when Keith and I had just gotten married. I knew instantly I wanted to use it as the basis of my family piece and hoarded a photo of it until recently, when I went to see Jeff at Evil from the Needle who does all my work, and most of Keith's as well.

The biggest problem I had was deciding where to get this piece, knowing that it would need to grow as our family grows, I was avoiding the fact that the only sensible place also happened to be the one part of my body which is plagued with the intense discomfort of a trapped nerve on a daily basis.

Good thing I discussed painkillers with Jeff beforehand because I think he might have called the session off had he not known me and known that I don't usually lie on his table in a codeine haze. At one point I was so out of it I was on the verge of piping up with "do you know you're not actually on my skin any more" because I could hear the gun but couldn't feel a thing. Luckily for my pride I kept that gem to myself because Jeff hadn't developed depth perception issues at all.

So here is my new ink.

Thanks to a very talented man it is everything I had hoped it would be, and more.

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