Scott VandeSande drew my dragon eight years ago this July. I remember the moment I knew it was my dragon surprisingly well for being in such a calm place.
We'd been out paddling for several days and he and I were tired of being on the water. We ended up in Radium, surrounded by our most beloved Rockies, at a coffee shop where we sat for hours. Scott was a friend who I could be with without having to talk to, without having to entertain. I sat with my book and he sat with his charcoal and paper. It was a peaceful day.
Scott had been reading about ancient mythology; My dragon is a myth. (He haunts rivers and lakes, and devours the canoeists and kayakers who dare to paddle his waters. Now, he watches my back while I taunt fate. It's a dangerous relationship we have.)
After the first charcoal sketch, I knew I'd found the drawing that I had been patiently looking for for years. Scott ended up refining the dragon on scratch-board in the following months; That board is the bit of original art that I bartered for that fall.
I had to wait seven months on a waiting list before I could have the outline tattooed on my back. It was another four months and three tattoo sessions before he was complete. (My dragon is a big boy.)
I love the surprised looks I get when people see my tattoo for the first time. I come across as a very serious and straight-laced gal. I'm not the kind of person people expect to have a giant (scary) tattoo on her back. It's fun messing with perceptions. (You should see the cocked eyebrows when I mention that I was the highschool kid with short, spiky, purple hair. Or that I was the first kid in my highschool to get a facial piercing. Or that I chronically skipped school while acing any papers/exams that I had to write.) I'm a tough cookie to figure out... and it's fun to be that way.
Seven years later, I have yet to get a second tattoo. I have three floating around in my head, though, and my husband is horrified that I want more.
