This self-illustrated man is facing a unique problem: He’s running out of room on the canvas of his body.
London resident and tattoo artist Chris Woodhead has regularly been getting inked since he turned 18, but the dad-to-be took his skin-deep love to the next level when he was forced into lockdown due to the coronavirus. We’re not talking sleeves here -- we’re talking head-to-toe designs.
“I started tattooing myself every day to create some kind of structure to our now seemingly aimless days,” the 33-year-old fan of U.S. punk rock tats tells The Post. “It feels special that my body is evolving so much through the process. I will continue until I run out of space completely.”
That’s not a totally unfathomable moment -- Woodhead already had some 1,000 tattoos at the beginning of quarantine and now, more than 40 days in, his remaining amount of reachable virgin skin is limited.
“Realistically, I’ve probably got a month’s worth of tattoo space left,” he tells the BBC, acknowledging that the sheer quantity of tattoos looks extreme.
“If I’m truly honest, I look ridiculous -- I look like a piece of blue cheese,” he says. “There is very little space left that I can actually reach.”
He’s saving at least a few spots to honor his new child. His wife, Ema, whom he’s in isolation with, is due in July.
To give himself structure while isolating, Woodhead gives himself a stick-and-poke-style tattoo every afternoon in the same time range, between 2 and 4 p.m. When tattoo time arrives, he has a routine of making himself a cup of tea, putting his ink in a pot, unwrapping a needle and drawing on his flesh, he tells the BBC.
“I found myself puttering around, not knowing what to do and eating all the food in the cupboards,” he says. “So the idea of tattooing myself every day was to give myself a bit of direction. Without structure, people are at a complete loss.”
Many of the tattoos he ends up drawing have to do with the pandemic, including writing “When will it end?” on the sole of his foot and honoring the U.K.’s health care system, the National Health Service, on his chest. “I find tattooing therapeutic anyway,” he says. “Right now I’m drawing what’s on my mind.”