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talkstowolvesIt occurs to me that I never fully documented my Japanese tattooing experience. Sezuki inked my tattoo so close to my leavetaking that I just didn't have the opportunity to properly chronicle it. Let's see what I can do to rectify this.
August 22nd, 2006.
I don't remember the walk to NS7 Dept on the day in question, but I remember how it was done. I took the train into Shinjuku, Odakyu Line, from Noborito. Likely, it was an Express. Not a Rapid Express as those never stopped at my station. I would have gotten out and proceeded out one of the Odakyu line exits, then walked down toward the Odakyu department store and the little shops selling tickets to movies, concerts, etc.
I would have passed the blank stretches of station wall where the fortunetellers set up in the evening, only to be replaced by young socialites of every plumage later in the night. There perhaps would have been a monk standing there, in his traditional garb and conical hat, ringing his bell and calling, calling.
I'd walk down ever farther, past the bus stops, onto winding city streets. At a crossroads next to a McDonald's, I took a left and walked down several crossings. The buildings faded out into unmarked facades, my surroundings looking more ghetto-like by the instant. Then I ducked into a building indistiguishable from the rest, climbing two flights of stairs to the unassuming NS7 Dept.
The building in which you can find NS7 Dept (door to the right of the green awning).
Sezuki was waiting for me. Outside, the weather was terribly hot and sticky: it was the height of a Tokyo summer, after all. Inside, she'd just switched on the AC: the air was cooling, slowly but surely. Since she'd come in on her day off, all the lights were off and the place was quiet. She switched lights on and we got to work.
Sezuki finalizing my design.
We made a few changes to the design, then she taped it to my leg and we adjusted it as I looked at a mirror. Once we'd found the best orientation, she rubbed the design off onto my skin. I climbed up onto a table, trying to find a comfortable position, and waited for her needle.
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The finalized design of my sakura tatoo.
This tattoo definitely hurt more than the one on my back. When I was having my first tattoo done, I was able to enter a trance state: only the last several minutes of that were rough. For the sakura, though... I couldn't really focus past the pain. I tried to think of my time in Japan as she was tattooing me, binding my experiences, the people I'd met, the things I'd seen, all up with the ink. Instead, I felt my mind was being inscribed with lines of fire. I felt my skin vibrating, a buzzing tingle even after she'd left off with her needle. It was both pain and pleasure indelibly intertwined, intense and surprising.
Also, it stung.
All told, the tattooing didn't really take that long. I can't remember the exact duration, but I know it was less than 30 minutes. Sezuki, ever the professional, had me pose against a black backdrop as soon as she was finished:
Deborah's new sakura tattoo.
Gorgeous work, ne? As most of you no doubt know, the cherry blossom is a potent symbol in Japanese culture: one of transient beauty. For me, sakura have the ability to leave me feeling utterly transformed. It is the perfect symbol for my life in Japan.
I thanked Sezuki profusely for all she'd done for me: come in on her off day, not charged me the usual high Japanese rate, etc. She was bubbly and gracious and wonderful. I left her place and hobbled back home to change and meet Becky (so that we could head back into Shinjuku and hopefully hit up the Park Hyatt Tokyo).
When I left the country a couple of days later, the airlines still were not allowing lotions or liquids into the main cabin of the aircraft. I had to stand in the main lobby of Narita and apply the last of my antibiotic gel to my new tattoo. I hiked around three airports, in between Japan and Atlanta after that, all with my pant leg reversed up my leg so that the fabric wouldn't rub against my tattoo. I ignored all the odd looks. And I got one customs official in Detroit who complimented me on my new work and asked where I'd had it done.
By the time I got to Atlanta, David and Doug were waiting on me, with a bottle of lotion in the car! It was blessedly soothing to smooth that onto my inked skin.
So, yes, praises be to Sezuki of the NS7 Dept! Creator of beauty and ink extraordinaire:
Sezuki of NS7 Dept. She plays hard.
Visit my Flickr gallery to see a few more shots from my tattooing.
August 22nd, 2006.
I don't remember the walk to NS7 Dept on the day in question, but I remember how it was done. I took the train into Shinjuku, Odakyu Line, from Noborito. Likely, it was an Express. Not a Rapid Express as those never stopped at my station. I would have gotten out and proceeded out one of the Odakyu line exits, then walked down toward the Odakyu department store and the little shops selling tickets to movies, concerts, etc.
I would have passed the blank stretches of station wall where the fortunetellers set up in the evening, only to be replaced by young socialites of every plumage later in the night. There perhaps would have been a monk standing there, in his traditional garb and conical hat, ringing his bell and calling, calling.
I'd walk down ever farther, past the bus stops, onto winding city streets. At a crossroads next to a McDonald's, I took a left and walked down several crossings. The buildings faded out into unmarked facades, my surroundings looking more ghetto-like by the instant. Then I ducked into a building indistiguishable from the rest, climbing two flights of stairs to the unassuming NS7 Dept.
The building in which you can find NS7 Dept (door to the right of the green awning).
Sezuki was waiting for me. Outside, the weather was terribly hot and sticky: it was the height of a Tokyo summer, after all. Inside, she'd just switched on the AC: the air was cooling, slowly but surely. Since she'd come in on her day off, all the lights were off and the place was quiet. She switched lights on and we got to work.
Sezuki finalizing my design.
We made a few changes to the design, then she taped it to my leg and we adjusted it as I looked at a mirror. Once we'd found the best orientation, she rubbed the design off onto my skin. I climbed up onto a table, trying to find a comfortable position, and waited for her needle.
The finalized design of my sakura tatoo.
This tattoo definitely hurt more than the one on my back. When I was having my first tattoo done, I was able to enter a trance state: only the last several minutes of that were rough. For the sakura, though... I couldn't really focus past the pain. I tried to think of my time in Japan as she was tattooing me, binding my experiences, the people I'd met, the things I'd seen, all up with the ink. Instead, I felt my mind was being inscribed with lines of fire. I felt my skin vibrating, a buzzing tingle even after she'd left off with her needle. It was both pain and pleasure indelibly intertwined, intense and surprising.
Also, it stung.
All told, the tattooing didn't really take that long. I can't remember the exact duration, but I know it was less than 30 minutes. Sezuki, ever the professional, had me pose against a black backdrop as soon as she was finished:
Deborah's new sakura tattoo.
Gorgeous work, ne? As most of you no doubt know, the cherry blossom is a potent symbol in Japanese culture: one of transient beauty. For me, sakura have the ability to leave me feeling utterly transformed. It is the perfect symbol for my life in Japan.
I thanked Sezuki profusely for all she'd done for me: come in on her off day, not charged me the usual high Japanese rate, etc. She was bubbly and gracious and wonderful. I left her place and hobbled back home to change and meet Becky (so that we could head back into Shinjuku and hopefully hit up the Park Hyatt Tokyo).
When I left the country a couple of days later, the airlines still were not allowing lotions or liquids into the main cabin of the aircraft. I had to stand in the main lobby of Narita and apply the last of my antibiotic gel to my new tattoo. I hiked around three airports, in between Japan and Atlanta after that, all with my pant leg reversed up my leg so that the fabric wouldn't rub against my tattoo. I ignored all the odd looks. And I got one customs official in Detroit who complimented me on my new work and asked where I'd had it done.
By the time I got to Atlanta, David and Doug were waiting on me, with a bottle of lotion in the car! It was blessedly soothing to smooth that onto my inked skin.
So, yes, praises be to Sezuki of the NS7 Dept! Creator of beauty and ink extraordinaire:
Sezuki of NS7 Dept. She plays hard.
Visit my Flickr gallery to see a few more shots from my tattooing.