The dragon on my arm
Five sessions in, and the dragon on my right arm still isn’t finished. It’s taking its time, and I’ve learned to let it.
That’s what I love most about Japanese tattooing. You don’t pick a design from a catalog and walk out with it in an afternoon. It grows slowly, one session at a time, and only makes sense once it’s whole. It reminds me of the stretch of the Nakasendo I walked back in May: slow kilometers, one after another, and a landscape you only understand by walking through it.
Mine is red, with a pink belly and blue horns, moving through dark clouds split by light-blue lightning. In Japanese tradition the dragon, ryū (龍), is a creature of water and sky: it brings the rain, lives in rivers and seas, rides the storms, and stands for strength and wisdom rather than menace. So in the middle of a storm, mine is right at home.
The only side effect: next time I’m in Japan, a few onsen might turn me away at the door. Fine by me. The dragon’s coming along.