More than you ever wanted to know about my Momiji Irezumi

For a couple of years, I've been thinking about getting a tattoo on my foot. When I went with a friend from home to get his tattoo, I saw a beautiful drawing of a bird. I asked the artist for a quote, but I wasn't ready to make a decision. Other than its beauty, the bird had no significance to me. I wanted my tattoo to be both meaningful and beautiful.

Shortly after my arrival in Kyoto, I met a girl in my program named Kate who'd already been here for half a year. She showed me her tattoo--a simple black and white sakura design on her foot--and told me she got it at a tattoo parlor near the Kamogawa.

That's when I knew I'd get a tattoo here in Kyoto. But I still wasn't sure what I wanted. I spent a lot of time doing Google image searches and happened across some of Gakkin's (Kate's tattoo artist) work. Kate later gave me a link to the Harizanmai site, where I could see Gakkin's complete portfolio. I liked his colorful sakura designs, but I was especially taken by his realistic momiji tattoos, and realized what a perfect symbol they were for my time here.

However, the momiji tats in Gakkin's portfolio were all quite large. Could it be adapted, and would it still be as beautiful on a smaller scale?

I accompanied Kate to Harizanmai when she had to get a touch-up and immediately noticed a vibrant drawing (which had or was soon to become a tattoo) on Gakkin's wall, which included some small, bright, red-orange momiji.

And I was sold. I talked to Gakkin briefly on the phone and made an appointment for Sunday, November 2, at 7:00pm.

I started getting cold feet almost immediately after I got off the phone.

As I was running around gathering things for a last-minute Halloween costume, I stopped in to Harizanmai with the hopes of assuaging my fear. I wanted to talk to Gakkin more about the design, and luckily he had some free time. I told him I thought I wanted the momiji on a branch, but I wasn't really sure. He did a rough sketch for me, and while it was nice, it wasn't what I wanted. I asked him to draw the leaves as if they were falling, and I fell in love with the design. I left the parlor that Friday afternoon with an extra little bounce in my step--I was finally REALLY excited about the tattoo!

When I got to Harizanmai on Sunday evening, we toyed around a bit with the exact placement of the leaves. Once the stencil was in place, I started feeling quite nervous. I've always heard that the foot is an extremely painful area to get tattooed. I definitely started sweating a bit when Gakkin turned on the needle--what an ominous sound!

For the most part, though, the pain wasn't too bad. A few spots were much worse than the rest, but all in all it wasn't as painful as I'd expected. I only had to grit my teeth a few times, and I managed to only cuss once--compared to Aoife, who swore in no less than 6 different languages!

After he finished the outline, we discussed the colors one more time. He knew I wanted red, orange, and a bit of yellow. Did I want the leaves at the top to be darker, and the leaves at the bottom to be lighter? Did I want them all to be the same? No, and no. I wanted some variation, but I also wanted them to look like they belong together. Not sure how well I was getting my idea across, I told him that he was a great artist, and I trusted him to make it beautiful.

And that he did.

So, here's a close-up taken minutes after the pain stopped. I think it's fair to say that I am absolutely in love with my new tattoo!

To me, it's well worth the 30,000 yen (a little over 300 USD), the pain, the discomfort of a foot swollen to massive proportions for four days, and the sometimes tedious aftercare. Because now I have a permanent reminder of the things I have done and the things I can do, of my life in Kyoto (5 leaves for 5 months), and the beauty of changes to come.