It was 2006, and I found myself waking up on a tour bus in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. We were opening for Switchfoot, and the previous night’s show was still a pleasant blur. For weeks, the idea of getting a tattoo had been brewing in my mind. Serendipitously, our tour bus was parked right across the street from a tattoo parlor. It seemed like fate – everyone else in the band had already gotten inked on this tour. Today felt like my turn to join the club and get my own Music Tattoo.
I knew exactly what I wanted: the black keys of a piano. Music, specifically the piano, has been my lifelong companion since I started playing at the age of six. I was drawn to the idea of a design that was subtly musical, something that might require a second glance to decipher. Getting a tattoo, however, felt like a monumental decision for someone who isn’t naturally impulsive. To ensure I was truly ready for this commitment, I had tested the waters. For a week, I drew the design on my arm with a sharpie, then even taped a printed version to my forearm to live with the size and placement. This wasn’t a fleeting whim; this music tattoo was going to be a deliberate and meaningful choice.
My bandmates and I ventured into the tattoo parlor, curious about pricing and availability. We were told they were booked solid for weeks, unless a cancellation occurred. A part of me was both disappointed and secretly relieved. Was I really going to go through with this permanent decision? We left my number just in case, and continued with our day. Then, a few hours later, my phone rang. An appointment had just been cancelled, and there was an opening if I could get there immediately. It was now or never. This music tattoo was becoming a reality.
With a mix of excitement and nerves, I headed back to the parlor with a couple of bandmates for moral support. I sat down with the tattoo artist and we discussed the design. He sketched the piano keys directly onto my arm with a pen, ensuring I was happy with the positioning before committing to the needle. This personalized approach helped ease my anxiety and made the idea of this music tattoo feel more real and less daunting.
Now, I need to confess something: needles and I don’t get along. In fact, I have a tendency to faint at the mere sight of them. Yet, surprisingly, this experience was different. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t exactly comfortable, but the pain was far less intense than I had anticipated. The artist began by outlining the keys with a fine needle, then switched to a larger one to fill in the black ink of each key. The whole process felt incredibly surreal. I was actually getting a music tattoo, permanently etched onto my forearm, in a visible spot for everyone – even my mom – to see. That’s a story for another time!
Once he was finished, the artist carefully wrapped my arm in gauze and bandages. He provided me with a bottle of Aquaphor and detailed aftercare instructions to ensure my new music tattoo healed properly. I was itching to remove the bandages and see the finished piece, but patience was required – they had to stay on for a couple of days. It took a little while to adjust to seeing it there, but now, it feels like a natural part of me. I honestly don’t even notice it most of the time.
Even now, years later, people still ask me about it. Mostly, it’s new acquaintances, but occasionally, even people I’ve known for years will inquire, “Hey, what is that on your arm anyway?” Sometimes, I make them guess, leading to humorous suggestions like “a barcode?” or “is it related to the new Jumanji movie?” But more often than not, people recognize them as piano keys. And for those musically inclined, they might even identify it more specifically: it’s the pentatonic scale – the foundational scale that has profoundly shaped my musical journey and blues-rooted playing style.
Regardless of life’s twists and turns, and whatever career path I might pursue, music has indelibly shaped who I am. Thanks to this music tattoo, that impact is literally etched in ink – a permanent reminder of my passion and dedication.
