Three Moons Rising
Somewhere along the line, in high school I think, I fell in love with the triple goddess moon symbol. I had started finding different aspects of Wicca and neo-Paganism quite interesting. And I have always loved the moon; it's obviously a beautiful and mystical thing. The triple goddess moon depicts three phases of the moon: waxing crescent, full and waning crescent. And to the Pagans the triple goddess moon is representative of the phases of a woman's life; which would be the maiden, the mother and the crone. The maiden represents enchantment, expansion, the promise of new beginnings, birth, youth and enthusiasm. The mother represents fertility, sexuality, nurturance, stability, power and life. And lastly, the crone represents wisdom, death and endings. And much like the moon which waxes once after the new moon and how spring follows winter, the crone is an end but she is always followed up by the maiden, new beginnings. It is the cycle of life, representing the pagan belief of reincarnation.
I always knew I wanted the symbol on the back of my neck; it just seemed to me that it belonged there. But I waited, I put the idea off even after I turned 18 because I wanted to find the right artist to do it for me. I had thought this idea out for much too long to have it messed up by some hack. Eventually, I found a tattoo artist, Josh, who worked at Mainstreet tattoos in Edgewood, MD, where I used to get pierced back in the day. I went up there to hang out and make an appointment to get my tattoo, we made the appointment for a week later. As we sat around bullshitting, his next and last appointment never showed up. Lucky me, so I was up.
I knew exactly what I wanted it to look like, well kind of. I had gotten a journal the triple moons embossed on it. So one of the guys at the shop, who also just happened to be a neo-Nazi, traced it and made a nice stencil. I was specific in that I wanted the ends of the crescent moons to just slightly wrap around my neck, because that is just how I had always envisioned it.
I was slightly nervous, at the time I had only three tattoos and they were all on my forearms. So I was not exactly sure what to expect. It was also exciting to me because this would be first tattoo that I didn't get myself as a present for my birthday. So it was 'out of cycle' as it were. And it was almost time, but of course I just HAD to forget my hair tie at home, why wouldn't I? The one time I actually needed it. I searched my car and all I found was a tiny clip that would barely hold anything let alone all my hair. However, on this day, I made it work. I gave it a stern talking to, telling it if it didn't do its' job properly I would henceforth throw it in a trash can douse it in kerosene and let it burn. Let me just say, that little clip did its job right good.
Josh put the stencil on and it was good. He asked me how I wanted it colored and I said I don't know. He asked me to pick to colors. I said purple and pink. I then left it up to him to make it into something lovely. I have this strange habit of just trusting tattoo artists to do the right thing. Oddly enough, it always turns out in my best interest. Which to say the least is a major plus.
The tattoo took about an hour and a half. It wasn't too terribly bad. From what I remember, the spine was ill and the sides of my neck where the points of the crescents reached hurt the most. We bantered back and forth. He was an extreme wise ass and liked to be kind of mean, but I didn't take him seriously because he was more like a giant tattooed teddy bear than anything else. Afterwards, he gave me a little mirror so I could look at it in the mirror. It was fabulous. At the time, I didn't know if I should trust tattoo artists with my body like I did with him, but I found that I was quite glad I trusted him.
It is even better than I ever imagined it, I always knew it should be there, but I never could see it clearly. And, now there it is clear as day, two years later. And it still looks amazing. I am extremely lucky that he didn't fuck me over with the trust thing. But I tend to have faith in people, especially when my friends tell me they rock.
The moral of this story is that I am very glad I waited until I found an artist I could trust my skin with to the max.
submitted by: Anonymous
on: 13 March 2008