Flash Life

I used to think that tattoo artists who did only flash or pre-drawn designs were too bougie for their own good.

But, like most of my beliefs based on overcritical judgement and not on logic or compassion, that line of thought has recently been absolutely overturned in my mind.

I was wrong. I get it now.

An artist choosing to go flash-only may be a little audacious, sure. But more than that, it can be an intentional act of self-preservation—a big, bountiful boundary made to keep both mental health and work/life balance in check. This is a revelation that has come to me slowly, through the slog of burnout and the peeling away of my layers of pride. I get it now–Or at  least I’m starting to–and I thought I would share a couple little bites of that revelation with you. Three main bites, actually.

Here are 3 reasons a tattoo artist might choose to do only flash/pre-drawn designs.

1. Time/Cost Efficiency

The funny thing about tattooing is that while many artists charge only for the time that the needle is in the skin, the actual work of tattooing is much wider and more time-consuming than what the client sees firsthand. Like the visible mushroom supported by a vast network of hidden mycelium, a tattoo is actually the culmination an artist’s total input. Drawings can take hours, doubling, or even tripling the overall time commitment of one tattoo. The longer the drawing process goes on and the more drafts a tattoo goes through, the lower our actual hourly wage becomes. That also doesn’t account for logistical duties, time spent in the inbox, marketing, social media, acquisition of skills and supplies every year, or the time it takes to provide highly safe and sanitary conditions for work.

Offering a drawing as-is, is a beautifully simple way establish more predictable and manageable work hours. Similar to a painter who makes prints of their own designs, but strictly limits their commissions, tattoo artists can increase the efficiency of their work life by offering things they produce at their own pace.

• Mental health.

I’m just going to say it. Custom tattooing is freaking hard emotional work. From the inquiries full of personal details and stories of life trauma, to choosing which projects to take, to the to the back-and-forth of getting the drawing juuust right, to holding space for clients in the tattoo chair. Tattooing, just like getting tattooed, is emotional, vulnerable, and personal. Each tattoo is a vessel for meaning, and some clients stuff a LOT of meaning into one vessel. Tattoos are rarely just tattoos. They are symbols that find actualization through an intense, physical process, and the tattoo artist is the guide. This has been the source of some of my most genuine joy in my work and also my deepest exhaustion and desire to give up. I adore helping people reclaim their bodies and express their deepest hearts, but it can also be totally depleting. It is the real, hard, stuff of life.

Having experienced all this myself, I have ceased to be surprised when an artist chooses to, temporarily or permanently, move to a model of tattooing that emotionally simplifies the process. Especially in 2022, after two years of upheaval that was enough to unsettle even those with the strongest emotional constitutions. Who would blame an artist for whittling away any unnecessary stress for the sake of preserving the precious assets that are their mental and emotional health? I certainly can’t anymore. In fact, I revere the artists who use boundaries to protect themselves from the overwhelm that so often comes from continual, custom work.

• We have ideas and Inspiration that we have been waiting to release.

This third point is, for me, simultaneously the most exciting and the most difficult to accept.

I became a tattoo artist so that I could use the thing I love to do most as a way to enhance the lives of others. Tattooing appealed to me above other forms of art chiefly because it had a strong element of personal service. That being said, part of being an artist is the visual expression of ideas. Where would we be if the artists whose work we pay to see in museums hadn’t followed their inspiration into the wild, strange and captivating depths of their own values and thoughts and feelings? How can the artist develop a brave new voice if they are only ever occupied with translating the voices of others? I personally believe there is a time and a place for both. Those artists who muster up the courage it takes to offer up the art that they deeply feel to be important are risking safety and predictability for the sake of innovation and exploration. That is both a privilege as an artist, and an essential element of humanity. True innovation cannot be dictated, it has to be crafted by hand. We artists crave the chance to execute the ideas that whisper in the back of our minds, “I’m worth your time, I promise. Please let me out.” To leave all our best ideas on the back burner just to pursue art that is stable and consistently profitable is a sacrifice. Does that mean that custom and commission work isn’t important or fulfilling? On the contrary. Doing custom tattoo work requires great artistic and interpersonal skills. It is an act of service to the clients heart and soul, and it is some artists’ bread and butter. I believe there will always be artists who do custom work and thrive. It just doesn’t have to be all of us.

The artists who dare to put their own values on display in their art are, by my estimate, brave and worthy of respect. Can a tattoo artist cease doing custom work as an expression of their character as a pompous, self-important jackass? Yes. Can that same attitude be applied to custom work? Also yes. Can an artist, free of the anxiety that comes with doing custom tattoos, finally offer up their best and most lovingly crafted work with gratitude and humility? YES.

And that’s what I’ve gradually had to learn. Those artists who dare to use their boundaries as building blocks for a better career full of honesty and innovation are not, as I first suspected, inherently elitist, but are actually pointing to a way that values emotional sustainability and artistic clarity.

Personally, having done a recent booking round of just flash and smaller florals, I can honestly say my quality of life has improved. Before leaving Portland I was playing chicken with my breaking point hardcore. I felt by ability to give my best slipping away as work became more about keeping up than honing my craft. I came to the sobering conclusion that I was either going to have to radically change how I did my work, or walk away from it. The latter option seemed unbearable, so I decided I had to make a major shift.

Now, Instead of being up late drawing and playing catch-up during the work week, I get to show up at the shop and focus on doing my work to the best of my ability. Instead of struggling to interpret a client’s desires, I get to focus on genuine conversation with my client and treat each appointment like a mini adventure rather than a test. I have time to have dinner with a friend after work and not fall behind because of it. I am more present, more inspired, and more excited about my work than I have been in a long time. I don’t take for granted that I’m in a privileged position where my work is in demand and I can afford to make the swap to flash. I also have no regret for the time I spent doing only custom work and building my clientele. For all of this I have immense gratitude.

I’m happy to admit now that I was wrong. Artists who do flash and pre-drawn designs only may not be, as I first assumed, elite and aloof. They may just be building their best life one boundary at a time, and I may just be okay being one of them.

My Story: Part 1

If my life decision making was a Venn diagram, then the choice to pursue tattooing was the overlap between “educated guess” and “leap of faith”.

My story isn’t magical or super glamorous, but it also isn’t standard or predictable. Looking back on it now I see it mostly as a testament to the grace of God, and support for my deep belief that we all have a place to serve in this crazy world of ours if we just keep our minds open and eyes peeled to find it.

At the age of 25 I had already tried many different lines of work without finding a place I really felt passionate about. Landscaping. Student outreach. Tutoring. Fitness instructing. Childcare. Admin work. None of it truly stuck. I was aching with that feeling of being on the verge of finding what I was supposed to be doing with my life, but never being quite able to reach it.

Oh, and I was getting a divorce.

For me, getting a divorce felt like sinking lower than I had ever intended to in my life time. I knew what I believed about marriage and divorce, what was written in scripture about it, and what I understood to be God’s plan for lifetime commitment. But Song of Solomon didn’t seem to hold any advice about what to do when your partner treats you like a child, steers you away from your goals and dreams, and uses you for their own financial gain. I had never been given guidance on what to do when you wake up in the morning, stare at the ceiling, and wish you could just disappear or dissolve into the air and leave the world with no memory you had ever been there at all. What are your options when your partner is on their best behavior at the therapist’s office, and then goes back to the same old tricks as soon as you get home? Emotional abuse is a sneaky thing, and I felt like I was at its mercy. I was so lost. I had come to the end of my rope and my fingers were slipping.

Thank God for my family who let me know I could come home whenever I needed to. When the day came that I finally broke and gave them the okay, they drove 2 hours to my apartment, helped me shlep all my stuff into their truck, and took me home without an ounce of hesitation.

It took me almost a year to finally apply for the divorce. It was the most emotionally grueling choice I have ever made, and I still have the yellow note from the clerks office with my case number stamped on it in clear, mechanical text.

Through all this, I had been working as a hair stylist at a local salon. I knew hair wasn’t my passion, but I adored the one-on-one customer relationship I was able to build with my guests. I loved the individualized problem solving and the creative freedom. I loved working with my hands, but hair wasn’t my THING. It paid my bills, but it didn’t fill my soul (I would still go home at night and paint for artistic fulfillment). I also knew that I had been given a golden opportunity to start over if I wanted. I had yet to deplete my college fund, and that was a financial privilege I was not about to waste.

It seemed to me that if I wanted to serve people one-on-one with any form of fine art, the most hands-on and fitting career I could see was tattooing.

This is the part of the story where it becomes abundantly clear that tattooing was not a lifelong dream of mine. I wasn’t the person who got a tattoo as soon as she was legally allowed. I didn’t have posters of Kat Von D on my wall in high school. I wasn’t passionate about tattoos as a stand-alone concept, and some folks may see that as a detriment. The truth is, I just loved art and I loved people, and I was desperate to find my place in the intersection of those two things. Tattooing had everything I wanted.

The trouble was, I had no contacts to run on. I had no idea how I would get an apprenticeship. I didn’t really know anyone in the the industry well. Unless I could find someone to take me on based on my artistic skill alone, I was pretty much SOL as far as I could see.

However, a little internet digging goes a long way, and I soon realized Oregon state had regulated tattoo schools where you could pay tuition to learn the art of tattooing. There were no apprenticeship gatekeepers, no risk of being turned into an abused shop gopher, and no previous experience needed. Living in Washington at the time, Oregon was only a hop, skip, and a jump away, and Portland had always been alluring to me. The pieces were falling into place, and all I had to do was apply.

I took a leap. I swallowed my fear. I shot my shot and sent my portfolio to what my research indicated was the best tattoo school in Portland. I prayed. I hoped. I questioned myself. I second guessed. I prayed some more.

And I got accepted.

Help Me Help You.

Friends, I need to ask you a favor.

You see, you, dear clients, are one of the absolute best things about my job. The fact that I can serve people in my community through my art still fills me up with wonder and joy. It is a privilege to help you carry your story on your skin, and I take that privilege very seriously.

So it is from my empathic heart that deeply wants to serve that I express to you how much of a struggle it is for me to go through my inbox every booking round and pick and choose my the projects I will work on. If it were just a list of concepts in my folder, it would be much easier, but the reality is that each idea for a tattoo is attached to someone’s hopes and desires. Truth be told, tattoos are a luxury—nobody is going to die without one. However, tattoos are also vessels for our self expression, and can be so deeply personal. Art is deep stuff, after all.

The flip side of that, however, is that when emotions get involved, things are bound to get sticky. This is a very real struggle for me. When a tattoo inquiry turns into an emotional appeal, it wears on my heart. I know that we all want to stand out amidst a flood of tattoo inquiries, and in many cases being unique and personal is very much an asset. When it comes time for me to pick and choose, though, it can become really difficult to juggle. When someone explains to me what a tough phase of life they are going through, or how much they want to honor the memory of a lost loved one, or how deeply they believe I am the perfect artist to honor their beautiful children, of course I want to help them. Of course those stories tug on my heartstrings. And of course I have a twinge of guilt when I think about saying no. It comes wit the territory of being an empathetic person. That being said, sometimes it feels almost unfair for me to be on the business end of all those emotions. I’m just one person, and I cannot be expected to carry the weight of all that.

So the favor I’m asking of you is this: please help me do my job from a place of clear-headed discernment, and not from a place of guilt or compulsion. I cannot wait to hear your story if and when you are in my office getting tattooed (really, I do love a good story), but until then, would you be willing to respect my inner peace by keeping your tattoo’s emotional backstory to just a sentence or two? Would you do me the honor of getting to make my choices from an unclouded mind and an attitude of joyful expectation and not apprehension?

Would you be kind to this super feel-y heart of mine? Please? It would be so deeply appreciated.

Thank you. I so look forward to what exciting projects the future brings.

5 Reasons for No Post

Its kind of a bummer, I know.

You go get a tattoo from an artist who is active on social media and they don’t post your piece. You wait for it, but it doesn’t show up. You feel like you got robbed of a little bit of validation and a chance to show your friends and family your new piece in an awesome artist’s feed. I get it—its a bit of an emotional drag.

But chances are it’s not personal. Unless you are a royal pain in the butt to your artist, I’m guessing the fact that they didn’t post your piece has nothing to do with you as a human. Tattoo artists, after all, are business people along with being producers of creative work. We are often not only the executives of our own businesses, but also the curators of our own marketing and PR efforts. Just like any other marketers, we have our reasons for doing what we do, and it has much more to do with us and the desired trajectory of our work than it does with you or the value of any one specific tattoo.

That being said, I thought it might be nice for me to illustrate why your artist might not publicly post your tattoo. Here’s hoping it helps to put your mind at ease.

5 REASONS YOUR ARTIST MIGHT NOT POST YOUR TATTOO

1. You were a jerk.

Okay, let’s get this one out of the way. Unlikely as it is, it could possibly still be the case that maybe you were really truly unpleasant or disrespectful and your artist doesn’t want to post your piece because they are salty or hurt about it. It is possible. However, in my personal experience, 99.99999% of the time, there is totally different reason behind them not posting. For me, most of my clients are gems. I have, of course, had clients who are perfectly welcome to never come back. Even then, I’ll still post their tattoos if I like the finished product. If your artist didn’t post your tattoo, in all likelihood it was not you. If you were polite and reasonable as a client, I give you permission to take a deeb breath and let it go.

Now, on to the more likely explanations.

2. They Forgot.

Seriously. They may just have forgotten. The photo may have gotten lost in the shuffle of the photo stream of a person with a visual job. Maybe they did a tattoo right after yours that got them distracted and they just totally blitzed your piece in their mind. Maybe they were super busy and social media wasn’t a priority that day or that week. Who knows? What I do know is that it happens to me all the time, and it doesn’t reflect on you as a client at all. We artists are human, and usually have a lot going on in our little creative brains at any given time. Sometimes we just forget stuff.

3. They Didn’t Get a Good Photo.

The tattoo wrapped your arm too much to get a complete photo. There was glare on your skin. The lighting wasn’t ideal. The photo was a teeny bit blurry. There are loads of reasons that your artist may not be happy with the photo they got of your tattoo. So many factors in play. As an artist, the way we visually represent ourselves is so important to us, it is often not an option to post a photo that we don’t feel represents our work well. Not being able to get a good photo of a piece can be a bummer for us, too, but it happens. Many of us are not super experienced in photography (your girl, here, included), and it can be a struggle for us. Sadly, sometimes that means we don’t have a good image of your tattoo to post on or social media or in our portfolio. That’s just how it goes.

4. It’s Not Part of Their Planned Trajectory.

Okay, so this one is maybe the most complex and sensitive reason your artist might not post your tattoo. As I mentioned earlier, most of us tattooers are the curators of our own marketing and public image. We have a lot of  control over what our audience sees from us and what we choose to put forward as examples of what we do or what we want to be doing. Therefore, if we do a tattoo say, for a friend or a returning client, and that tattoo doesn’t really fall into the kind of work that we want to be doing in the long term, we may not post it publicly. For example, I don’t love doing tiny tattoos. Tiny, dainty, easily-hidden-away pieces can be lovely, but I don’t love doing them. Now, if a close friend or star client wanted one, I likely oblige if I could. I don’t mind. Anything for my tribe. But I don’t want to give the false impression that I am open to take more projects like that on in my day-to-day practice. Therefore, I’m probably not going to post the tattoo at the risk of receiving more inquires aimed at that particular kind of work. Its simple business and it has very little to do with the actual tattoo itself or the person who wears it.

Another branch of this same reasoning tree is that your tattoo (or the background of the photo, or the lighting) doesn’t fit the artist’s social media plan or visual “vibe.” That might sound a little shallow at first, but consider how much of social media marketing these days is focused on making a personal brand and producing consistent content. We are all trying to win the algorithm game, whatever that looks like to us, and having a “look” and developing a brand for which clients seek us out is an important part of building our businesses. We are just doing our best to look like capable, consistent professionals.

5. We Are Really Hard on Ourselves.

No tattoo is perfect. In theory, every artist knows that, but we all have our weaknesses and the things we tend to use as ammunition against ourselves as artists. I hate to admit it, but I have definitely skipped posting a piece because I believed I could have done better. The client may have been perfectly happy and chances are it may have been well received on my social media if I had posted it. But because there was some small part of it that I perceived to not be up to my personal standard, I chose not to put it out into the world. Sometimes in the eyes of an artist, one line that could have been a little straighter, or one area of slightly uneven whip shading can become, to us, a glaring beacon of our failure. The client or anyone else may never notice, but we do. And we just don’t want to risk posting something just in case someone else notices the thing we are unsatisfied with. Instagram is a highlight reel in a lot of ways, and most of us creative types only want to show off what we consider to be our best work, which means a lot of perfectly lovely tattoos may go unposted due to our insecurity.

 

These are the most likely reasons I have to offer you for why you tattoo may not have shown up on your artist’s Instagram grid. My best advice to you is not to worry about it and know that if you love your tattoo, that’s the be-all-end-all gauge of merit in the at the end of the day. No need to freak. Your artist is just trying to run a business. Plus it just gives you all the more reason to double your efforts on posting it to your own social media ad texting photos to anyone who cares.

Everyone wins.

#trendyaf

Trends.

They are an integral part of consumer culture, and have been for centuries. Hipsters hate them ( while ironically creating their own), department stores and magazines count on them, and first-world teenagers consume them at an astounding clip. When I hear the word “trend” or “fad,” I, personally, think of the whirlwind of styles available at Forever 21 each season, as well as that thing about Amy and the limes in Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women. Context is everything, but we humans seem to find ways to create demand in each new era. The only constant is change anyway, right?

So why should tattoos be any different? So they are highly personal and permanent. So what? A bandwagon is a bandwagon and you can bet when a trend goes rolling by, a certain portion of the populace will jump on it and ride like it was the freaking Oregon Trail.

But I’m not actually writing this to be a big, hypocritical-hipster-pants and pour trash on the idea of tattoo trends while bemoaning the lack of originality within the client pool. Not at all. I actually just want to talk about what a trend in the world of tattoos looks like, and what that means on a cultural level. Well, what I think it means, anyway.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m very guilty of rolling my eyes at the prospect of doing a design I’ve basically already done several times. I’m so ready to put those freaking infinity signs in a coffin and bury them; I’mma nail that sucker shut myself. But what I want to consider, before I resign myself to jaded cynicism at the unoriginal state of the American tattoo market, is how the overall landscape of certain designs’ popularity reflects on us as a culture and how it really isn’t all that different than what we, as humans, have always done. Granted, I’m no sociologist (although how fascinating would that be), and everything I say is just my speculative and limited perspective. I’m just calling it as I see it. Nevertheless, I think it is worth examining what is really happening when a generation of people come into a sort of cultural artistic agreement.

In my view, one of the key things, first of all, is to separate the act of copying from the emergence of a popular theme. Copying is when you see something someone else has, and want to claim that same thing for your own. Please do not bring a photo of a tattoo from Pinterest in to your tattoo artist and ask for an exact copy. That tattoo was done by another artist and is being worn by another human. You can take that idea and adapt it for yourself, but just like having someone else give you the answers to a homework assignment or wearing the same exact outfit as your sister, copying is not cool.

Now, consistent themes are, in my opinion, something different altogether. When any one of us goes to an art museum, often we can differentiate time periods and cultural expressions by theme. We can tell what people valued, believed, and prioritized by the art of the period. Grecko-Roman marble sculptures of humanoid deities (you know a Venus when you see one, eh?), druid fertility symbols (yep, those are definitely genitals), and Byzantine Catholic icons of spiritual figures (so many gold halos). The museums and collections of the world together contain multiple examples of greek pottery and celtic armbands and madonnas with one nipple out because those things are what mattered to those people at that time in history.

We can tell what a culture values by the art it produces. Why–I ask again–should tattoos be any different? When someone offhandedly comments, “oh yeah, I love a good floral but everybody seems to have a floral tattoo now,” what I hear is 1. a valid desire to be unique and original, but also 2. a total dismissal of something that is actually binding us together as a culture.

I’mma say this once good and loud for y’all. FLOWERS. ARE. UNIVERSAL.

Throughout time, throughout art, throughout cultures, throughout belief systems, throughout all these elements, flowers have always shone through. Human beings love flowers, and for good reason. Flowers are fertility, beauty, growth, renewal, femininity, delicacy, peace, and so many other things we could attribute. If you want to get really technical about it, flowers are literally plant genitals that we cultivate, fawn over, and stick our noses into (think about that this spring, friends). We love them. That has not changed in thousands of years and I doubt it ever will. What has changed is the cultural medium of the moment. In the developed world, we are currently experiencing an explosion in the tattoo market. More people have tattoos than ever before. So, why, then, are we surprised when subject matter we, as a species, have celebrated for as long as we have bothered to remember shows right up in our newest artistic obsession?

It’s not an anomaly, friends. It’s human nature.

Another example that stands out to me are what I call “tattoos of origin.” By this I mean tattoos that deal with where you are from, where you currently live, or where your heritage is rooted. I live in the Pacific Northwest of the United States. People here get tattoos of evergreen trees, mountains, and local wildflowers (flowers again!) like crazy. It’s what we do. It’s who we are as a culture. People in Arizona get cactus tattoos. I’m sure people in New England get fall leaves. People in Canada probably get beaver tattoos, I don’t know. How many people of Irish lineage have a celtic knot? The truth is, when we go to decorate our bodies, we naturally draw from what we know and appreciate most intimately. It only seems right. Religious tattoos are another theme worth mentioning. I have them, and so do loads of other people. What one believes about the world and spirituality can be HUGE parts one’s identity. These elements are all part of how we identify ourselves and how we form a narrative for ourselves of who we really are.

(Side note: I know some of you are probably thinking “but what about people who get artistically ‘bad,’ primitive, or technically trashy tattoos on purpose to be ironic and edgy?” To be totally honest, if there is a market for it, I don’t blame artists for capitalizing on it. Nobody is making these people get trash aesthetic tattoos. Supply and demand. That’s how it works. They can holla at me in 10 years when they want them covered, though.)

Now, after all this, please don’t get me wrong and think that I don’t prioritize originality and the practice of getting highly individualized and unique body art. On the contrary, I think that is a very important approach in the majority of cases. Tattoos are innately individualistic, expressive, and self-reflective. Each human is unique, and tattoos are just one part of that.

What I am saying is this: Maybe trends and common themes in tattoos are less about following the sheep-like masses of aesthetic unoriginality, and more about our common experience of what it means to be human. After all, don’t we all know someone with a flower tattoo who is far from bland or basic? Maybe that person is us.

I imagine a thousand years from now, anthropologists (robots, maybe?) will dig up our bones and unearth our preserved body parts form some long-forgotten lab, and they will read data files about how we dressed, and they will examine old Instagram archives about what we ate, and pour over articles expounding on the ways we marked our skin, and they will use that information to build their opinion of us past beings and what mattered to us.

And if they come to the conclusion that just like the Celts, and the Greeks, and the ancient Chinese, that we loved flowers, too…

I’m okay with that.

Certain Ink-alienable Rights

Recently, I’ve been having a lot of discussions with my clients about their previous experiences in the world of tattoos, and all the positive and negative stories that come along with that. I’ve heard some stories about other artist pulling personal as well as business moves that have definitely been worth a good eyebrow raise, eye roll, or even a dropped jaw. It makes me angry to hear about other artists dragging down the industry with their incredibly unhelpful behavior. On behalf of those of us who try our best to provide excellent service at all times, it makes me a little sick.

One of the saddest things to me is how totally at a loss my clients often are as to what they should have said or done in light of the service they received. There seems to be a huge gap in knowledge of what is fair and acceptable for a client to request, and what quality of care they should be able to expect.

To be fair, when I turn the lens the other way, I have no shortage of stories about artists being mistreated by clients. Disrespect goes two ways, and I have loads of personal data that supports that claim in the context of a tattoo shop.

So I decided to put together a little guide to what can be expected and what boundaries, in my opinion, should be honored within the sphere of client-artist relations as they apply to tattoos. In all fairness, I have to add the disclaimer that these points come from my experience and the general consensus of those close to me in the industry. However, I’m not going to apologize or undermine the value that I place in these points—I stand firmly by them.

Side note: When I use the term “rights” in this post, I’m not referring to any actual legally established concepts. Nor am I suggesting that existing as a human means you are somehow cosmically entitled to brilliant customer or artistic service. For this context, please read “rights” as things you can and should be able to expect in this particular context.

Okay? Okay. Let’s proceed.

In the context of tattooing, the artist has a right to:

Ask what they feel is fair for the work. 

Even if it seems outrageous. Even if it IS outrageous by any other standard. Regardless, the artist still has a right to set their own price (provided they don’t have a contract with the shop that states otherwise). If an artist is smart, they will take many factors into consideration when setting a price per hour or per piece, but there are pretentious jokers and price gougers in every industry, sadly. If you cannot stand to pay an outrageous estimate, you can say no, but we will get to that in a minute.

In addition, the artist has a right to establish deposit or drawing fee policies as they see fit. A deposit is a fee you pay ahead to secure your place that will be deducted from the price of your tattoo at the appointment. A drawing fee is an extra fee you pay for the artist’s time spent drawing for you before the appointment, and usually doesn’t come off the tattoo price later. In either situation, if you don’t show up or have to reschedule at the last minute, the artist has the right to keep your payment and is not required to refund you. Those charges are established for just such a reason.

Express concerns about the design.

It is likely that your artist doesn’t think you are stupid. They should assume you don’t know the technicalities of tattooing—that’s their job. That’s why another part of their job is explaining to you what they believe will affect the outcome of your tattoo in the long run. If I, as a tattoo artist, think your tattoo will age poorly or break up the lines of your body in an awkward way, I have the right and the responsibility to say so. Please hear me (or your artist of choice) out.

Adjust the price for changes made.

If you make an inquiry that says you want a 3×3” rose on your forearm, but when you get to the appointment you tell your artist you really want it on your palm, or you actually want it 5×5,” and/or you want it to be bright yellow, your artist can add charges for difficult areas, larger size, or added color. A good artist will tell you these things right up front when you establish the changes.

Establish and uphold boundaries.

If an artist’s Instagram says “no DM’s,” it is their prerogative to stick by that. If you no-call no-show and then try to reschedule after the fact, the artist can reasonably decline. If you harass, embarrass, or cheat your artist, or you make them feel uncomfortable in your company, they can and should refuse service to you in the future. To some folks these things seem like common sense. However, for those who would shamelessly mistreat your tattoo artist: congrats—you are the reason we set these boundaries in the first place, Homie.

Take breaks.

Chances to stretch, snack, and/or use the bathroom are often just a sign of good self-care and sustainable work practice. If your artist is going to do their best work—especially on a big piece or a long session—occasional breaks will probably need to happen. HOWEVER, your artist should not charge you during breaks. Also, excessive breaks are usually not necessary, so take that into account when you are considering how much to tip and/or whether or not to return for more work in the future.

 

That being said, in the context of tattooing…

You have the right to:

Ask politely for a rough estimate ahead of time.

Granted, for artists who charge by the hour, it might be hard for them to nail down an estimate. Thus, their price guess may be very rough. They may just let you know their hourly rate plus how many hours they suspect it will take and let you do the math yourself. Nevertheless, tattoos are expensive, and it is your prerogative to be able to budget for the project. An example for how you might approach the topic would be something like this:

“I was hoping that maybe I could get a rough estimate for what you think the piece might cost all together. I’m hoping not to go too much over $450 for the piece, so if the expense exceeds that, I may have to adjust accordingly.” Thus establishing your budget and leaving the door open to size the project down or split the piece into multiple sessions if it will cost more than you expect.

That being said, tattoos are a luxury, and if the estimate is over what you can afford, it is okay to cancel as long as you give plenty of notice. Canceling is actually much preferred over an attempt to haggle, which makes you seem disrespectful and cheap. Either proceed or walk away. I recommend politely asking for an estimate in your first inquiry email to an artist so you can avoid having to cancel if the estimate is a surprise. And if the artist get’s all uppity or refuses to give you even a guesstimate, feel free to walk away.

Side note: “I can’t afford it right now,” is a totally valid reason to cancel or reschedule ahead of time. Please don’t just pull a no-show when money is tight.

Ask for what you really want.

It is going to be on your body forever. It is okay for you to ask for exactly what you want. However, it is not your artist’s fault if you don’t actually know what you want. It is not your artist’s job to keep drawing until you decide. Either know what you want and express it, or be flexible.

Now, if your artist seems to be dodging things you want, you absolutely have the right to ask why. I’ve heard so many clients of mine say something like, “well I wanted this and this, but the artist didn’t want to do it.” One of my clients told me that one of his previous artists told him it was illegal to black fill his elbow. I told my client that if I can tattoo people’s fingers, faces, and nipples, then there is no way the government cares about an elbow. The previous artist just didn’t want to black fill the elbow, so he lied to my client. I find this totally unacceptable and offensive on the part of the artist. Way to make tattoo artists look lazy and shady, bro.

For you, your artist might have a very valid reason for not wanting to do something (it won’t age well, it will be an awkward shape, etc.), but they also might just be lazy. Therefore it is totally fine to politely ask for their reasoning, and, if they are just being wishy-washy, push a little for what you really want.

Ask for a break.

If you need a snack, need some water, need to pee, feel lightheaded, or get an emergency phone call, TELL YOUR ARTIST. It is totally okay to ask for what you need and practice good self-care. Please be considerate of your artist’s time and schedule, and consider that the more breaks you take, the longer the tattoo will take overall. That being said, if you need a minute, just ask.

Not go back.

If you got a tattoo from an unpleasant artist, just don’t go back. Seriously. There are too many amazingly talented, well-mannered artists in the world for you to waste your time and money going back to someone who takes all the joy out of it. Move on. You deserve better.

If your tattoo is unfinished, however, there are some details to consider. By the general rules of tattoo culture, it is considered best practice to let the artist who began a piece on you be the one to finish it. I always recommend to my clients that they let their original artist finish what they have started. However, there are some things that I, personally, consider a forfeit of the right to finish your tattoo:

• If your artist moves far away.
• If your artist makes racist, prejudiced, or downright mean comments as a matter of course.
• If your tattoo artist sexually harasses or solicits you in any way.
• If your artist makes you feel unsafe.
• If your artist pulls shady financial moves.

Don’t go back. Just don’t. No amount of indignation from that artist is worth you risking your own personal safety or integrity. As a tattoo artist myself, I personally give you permission to go somewhere else.

Of course, all these things I just told you are disputable. Nothing in this post is written in stone. I’m simply presenting my angle as a tattoo artist about what I think is fair to expect and request. I have a feeling, though, that most tattoo artists who are also ethical human beings would agree with me (at least for the most part). Some of the details of client-artist relations can be incredibly specific and morally fuzzy, but it is to your benefit as a client to have a sort of compass by which to navigate the process. As artists, it serves us well to set our boundaries and work within them as kindly as possible so that neither or customer service nor our personal integrity suffer. Its tricky. I know. But I think it is worth the work. There are happy clients to be made, and great tattoos to be done.

Thanks, Friends.

Why

“Why on earth would you do that to your skin?”

It is a question nearly all first-world tattooed people run into at some point.

In my own circle of faith, sometimes people phrase it this way:

“Why would you want to degrade the beautiful skin God gave you?”

As if God were clearly on their side, raising His mighty eyebrow along with them, waiting for you to respond.

Why? That’s actually a decent question. I could live without the disapproving inflection with which the question itself is often asked, but he curiosity itself is fair. Why do we do it? What possesses people to put something permanently on their skin? I understand for someone without tattoos, the desire for body modification might seem strange. I understand, too, that tattoos are a choice, and not something anyone is born with. When someone questions my body art, they are really questioning my choices, which stings a little bit, but is also sort of expected on a human level. Like asking why you don’t eat red meat, why you drive a Suburban, or why you prefer warmer weather over the cold. We human beings are curious about the thoughts and motivations of others, especially when they seem so far from our own.

But when it comes to tattoos, often the curiosity is so intertwined with a sense of judgement that it becomes difficult, as a tattooed person, to respect the question at all. I catch myself thinking, If you distain my ink so much in the first place, why do you even care WHY I got it? Or, if I’m feeling particularly unhelpful, I don’t owe you an explanation, bye.

But. My indigence doesn’t really help anything. It may be true that I don’t owe anyone an explanation of my choices, but the truth without love is just facts, and people ignore facts all the time. So I tell them. I explain the basic story of why I love that piece of art, and why I have it on my skin. Sometimes the asker will get more of a detailed answer than they were probably bargaining for—they might get a really heavy truth, a sad fact about me, or an uncomfortably specific anecdote about Jesus. But hey, they asked. In the same way, others may have stories about overcoming oppression, escaping abuse, finding identity, or any number of other things the listener might benefit from—whether hey want to or not.

The way I see it, it helps nothing to be defensive. Just as it is important for marginalized people and minorities to share their experiences and perspectives, I believe those of us who live in distinct skin by choice can choose to open the dialogue for our own sake, and for the sake of the greater culture. You know, knowledge is power and whatnot. We don’t owe the world our reasons, but we can choose to share our stories and our skin as a gift of ourselves. We cannot control the judgment of others, we can simply own our bodies as the illustrations to our lives. After all, tattoos are inherently conversation starters—why not utilize that?

To finish off my thoughts on this topic, I thought I would just leave you with a few examples of reasons me, my friends, and my clients have marked our bodies. The power is always in the story:

My friend, a single mother, has two large, full color lilies on her back. Her daughter, the love of her life, is named Lily.

A client of mine has been a swimmer her whole life. As a  wife and mother of 4 daughters, she is now celebrating being  skin cancer free, but the good sized scar on her leg was still a painful reminder. For her very first tattoo, we covered her scar with a lotus, to represent her love of swimming, and another flower. The scar is completely disguised, and my clients is delighted.

A client and dear friend had me tattoo a small patch of thorns on her side just along her bra line. Turns out, I have thorns in a very similar spot for nearly the same reason. 2 Corinthians 12:6-9. The thorns in our sides will not get the best of us. Christ’s power is made perfect in our weakness.

Another friend has a tiny ghost tattooed on her side near her breast. She and her husband lightheartedly call each other “Boo.”

Countless clients have come to me hoping to cover the scars that self-harm has left with them. When we overlay those scars with artwork, it isn’t just the old injuries that diminish, but the shame that goes with them.

A close coworker friend of mine has several KISS-themed tattoos. Music is an enormous element in her life, and the band itself is one of her main means of connecting with her father, who is an intense fan.

My own father has three elephants to represent our small family.

I tattooed the inside of my own right heel when I was deep in emotional turmoil. “Make do and mend.”

I have a double-ended spoon on my ribs with thorny poppies to remind myself that the eating disorder life is not the life I want, and that in order to nourish others, I must first nourish myself.

These are our reasons. Because we are alive, and we don’t want to forget what that means.

That’s why.

Client-ing: A Guide

It is no secret that the tattoo industry as a whole has grown exponentially in the last several years. Like, by a lot. We are in a time of serious momentum when it comes to body art, and that’s incredibly exciting. However, there are some negative side effects that can happen when an entire industry explodes. Sometimes there are elements of the surrounding culture that have to play a little catch-up as the market in question takes off.

I think that may be what is happening, to some degree, with the American (and maybe other countries’) tattoo clientele. For so long tattoo shops were only frequented by the roughest and most rebellious members of the population. Now, the atmosphere is becoming much more inclusive, and customer relations have had to adapt accordingly. In light of this, it seems to me that there is a lack of understanding in the general public about how to proceed with the process of requesting and receiving a tattoo. How would your average person even know where to start or how to behave? It’s not like going to the dentist or the barber, yet it is personal service. What are the expectations? These are things that often go un-talked about, so I thought I  would put my two sense in with a little help from some of my colleagues.

Allow me to put forth my own list of 10 ways you can be a better tattoo client.

1. Know What You Want, or Be Flexible. 

Tattoos are permanent, so it makes sense that you would want to do your research, put lots of thought into your design, and get everything just right. Rendering your artwork is our job as artists, deciding is your job. If you have a basic concept and want to let the artist put their spin on it, great! If you know precisely what you want and have a strong vision, cool, If you want to bring a sample of your mother’s handwriting into a shop and have it copied onto your body, sounds good,!

But please do not give us some vague ideas, have us draw something up, and then make us change it a million times and redraw it until you finally figure out what you want. We are not mind readers. We have other client’s waiting for their drawings too. It is not our job to counsel you into your design—we want to give you what you want, so please do your planning ahead and together we can make you something great.

2.   Don’t Ask Us to Copy Another Artist’s Work. 

Many people don’t realize that this is an issue, and the lack of knowledge is totally forgivable. However, when you come in with a picture from Pinterest and ask your local artist to replicate it exactly, you are actually taking some other artist’s style, originality, and potentially hours of drawing and tattooing work and reducing it to a copy and paste concept. For us to copy it is disrespectful to the original artist, and unfair for us to profit off of someone else’s work. Personally, I have had my work copied, without my permission, in my home city. It sucks to know someone else is taking advantage of your hard work. Also, as a client with a copied tattoo, you will be walking around with a lesser version of an original tattoo that was tailor made for someone. It’s just not a good situation overall. Feel free to send your artist photos of other tattoos you like for inspiration, but copying is copying. Please don’t ask us to do it.

3.  Let’s Not Get Ahead of Ourselves.

We all get excited and impatient about our tattoos. It is a wonderful thing! Honestly, I love the enthusiasm and joy my clients have for their appointments—it is one of the things that makes me adore what I do.

However, please don’t badger us for a sketch more than a day or two before the appointment. Yes, I do understand that you want to make sure it is perfect because it is going on your body, and yes, I am willing to make whatever changes you desire. I’m not going to tattoo something on you if you aren’t sure about it.

The thing is, when you ask me for a sketch a week or two before the appointment, my brain is completely full with tomorrow’s client(s), and maybe the clients for the next day. We tattooers have to stay in the present so we can do our best work on the client in front of us.

Also—and I’m going to give you some hard truth because I know you can handle it— the farther ahead we give you a sketch, the more likely it is that we have shot ourselves in the foot. Let me explain. Say I give a client a sketch ten days before her appointment and she loves it. What is she going to do then? Show it to EVERYONE. Tattoos are exciting and it’s almost impossible to keep that kind of joy to yourself. BUT. What happens when Grandma, or the BFF, or the boyfriend finds one thing in the tattoo that they don’t love? What happens when someone plants a seed of doubt? Those thoughts are going to get all up in the client’s head and, eventually, become a reason why I need to change the whole design. Maybe multiple times before the actual appointment.

Now, If I give that same client a sketch 48 hours ahead of time, and she loves it, then her friends have very little time to comment, and once the tattoo is on skin, I doubt that any of them would even think to comment anything other than glowing compliments. The client made her own choices and her loved ones just want to admire her new ink.

Also, it is worth mentioning that I have had clients ask me to draw something up in order for them to decide if they want the tattoo or not. Honestly, that is basically the same as asking a chef to make you a dish just so you can decide if you want to eat it or not. I’m sorry, but it’s just not worth the time investment for an artist to put work into a drawing that may not, in fact, be a source of any income at all. Especially when they have paying clients who deserve priority.

The truth is, as a tattoo artist, I often spend more time drawing up a design than actually tattooing it on skin. If you take the price of any custom-drawn tattoo and break it down to an hourly wage counting drawing AND tattooing time, it is not as many dollars per hour as it may initially seem. This is why we artists do what we do in the way we do it.  We have to protect and prioritize our time in order to make a living. We have our reasons, and most of us are not just trying to procrastinate or be last-minute jerks. I promise.

4. No Love for Bargain Hunters. 

“How much would you charge for this?”

Oh.

My.

Word.

Please.

Don’t.

The truth is, I understand that each client needs to get a grasp on how much of a financial commitment they are making when they decide to get a tattoo. We all need to budget for the things we want in life, and planning is important. Trying to plan ahead is understandable. Where it crosses the line, however, is when it becomes a matter of getting or not getting the tattoo depending on whether or not the price is what the client deems acceptable for the project. Getting price quotes from artists to determine what tattoo you will get is fairly backwards, and it often comes across like saying, “I like your work, but it’s only worth it to me to get it from you if you are cheap enough for me.” We are not car insurance companies competing for your business with price deals. We are artists who are trying to make a living off of giving you what you want.

I hate to be an ass, but the simple truth is that tattoos in our current, western culture are a luxury. The proper order to acquire a good quality tattoo is 1. Decide what you want on your skin (or at least your concept/theme), 2. Find an artist you like, 3. Inquire with the artist about your idea with full expectations that it will be expensive because tattoos cost real money, 5. Schedule far enough out with the artist to give yourself time to save, and 6. Ask the artist politely if they could possibly give you a ballpark estimate for what the tattoo, or at least the first session, will cost so that you can plan accordingly.

An example of this may be something like: “Would you mind giving me your hourly rate and a rough estimate of how long this piece might take? I want to be sure to have my finances in order for the appointment. Thank you!”

There is no need for awkwardness or disappointment when you do your prep work and commit to investing in your skin art.

5.   Don’t Bring a Big Entourage (Especially NOT Children).

You don’t need an entire tribe of friends to help you get your tattoo. Bringing one person to talk with to keep you occupied is totally okay, but one is enough. Plus I’ve seen a lot of bored people waiting while their friend/relative gets tattooed. Don’t do that too your loved ones.

Also, a tattoo shop is no place for a child. It just isn’t. It’s not appropriate or safe, so please leave the little ones in someone else’s care while you are getting inked.

COVID-19 Update: many shops now have a no guest policy for their tattoo clients in order to keep germs and other contaminants out of the shop as much as possible. Now more than ever it is important to check with your artist before bringing anyone with you to your appointment.

6.  Consider Placement in Every Way. 

If you want your sternum, or your butt cheek, or your lower stomach tattooed, your artist is going to need to get open access to that area and several inches of space around the area as well. Please consider this when you prep yourself for your appointment. If you are very shy and modest, it is worth considering that when you decide on tattoo placement. If you want your sternum done but don’t want to expose your chest, be prepared to tape, tie, and twist your clothes or other covering in order to keep your goodies in the jar. If you want a shoulder tattoo, please choose sleeves that allow for free access and won’t cause discomfort as the appointment goes on. Each body part needs to be clothed accordingly.

Note: your artist shouldn’t make you undress more than what is necessary to access the tattoo area. Tattooing is an intimate experience, but that doesn’t give anyone the right to be a creep. Stay aware and safe.

Also, cleanliness is KEY. No artist, no matter how polite, wants to get all up in your inner thigh tattoo when your personal biz isn’t so fresh. So please be clean.

7.   Take Care of Yourself So We Can Take Care of You. 

Eat before your appointment. Hydrate before, during, and after. Bring your headphones if that helps you. Sleep well the night before. DO NOT GET TATTOOED DRUNK, HIGH, OR HUNG OVER. Free up your schedule so there is no time crunch stress for anyone involved. The best tattoos happen on clients who are happy, relaxed, and well-fueled. Self-care is just as real in the tattoo shop as it is anywhere else, so take care of your lovely self and you’ll be glad you did.

8.   Tip.

One thing I was sadly unaware of when I first started getting tattooed is that tattooing in The United States is generally accepted as a tipping profession. Servers, hair stylists, baristas, tattoo artists: most of these folk work very hard and deserve to be tipped according to their service. I understand if your artist happened to be a jerk to you and you are trying to send a message. I get it. But please just consider the whole picture (the quality of the work, the overall cost, and the effort on the part of the artist) before you decide to lowball someone or not tip at all. In general, it’s probably a good standard to tip your artist around the same percentage you would tip a server at a restaurant.

Just put that good stuff back out into the universe. Tip your service providers.

PLEASE NOTE: these suggestions are aimed at clients within the USA and Canada. Tipping customs vary around the world. When In doubt, ask your artist what the norm is.

9.   Tattoos Are Often Long, Tough, and Expensive.

From the client’s side of the table, tattoos hurt, can take a long time, can be expensive and are often physically exhausting. It’s not always a pleasant process once the needle actually breaks skin, but it should be expected. Your artist knows how badly it hurts and how it feels like it takes forever. However, good work takes effort from both parties involved, and when its over, you get to have a beautiful piece of artwork forever.

Chances are, your artist knows how badly it hurts and how it feels like it takes forever. To make the experience more comfortable, you do have the option of using a tattoo numbing cream specially formulated for use during tattooing to keep you comfortable throughout your session, without affecting skin texture or ink settling. Be sure to talk about it with your artist before your appointment and follow the given instructions for how to apply it.

10. We Want You to Have a Beautiful Tattoo, Too.

Most of us tattoo artists love what we do. We love it. It is a privilege to make a living off of art, and having our clients trust us with their skin is a huge honor. We want to give you a beautiful piece of art for your body. That’s our job, and we want to do it well. So if you would be so kind as to view your tattoo as a team project that we are working on together, we would be very thankful. By the time you come in, we may have put hours into your design, so please show up on time with your money and a good attitude. With these key ingredients, your tattoo will likely go absolutely swimmingly. If you can do your best to play by the rules, we will can do our best to make your tattoo dreams come true.

Everybody wins.

The Case for the Semicolon

For those of you who are unfamiliar, there is a particular tattoo that has been circulating for a few years now: the simple semicolon. You may have even seen one or two live in the flesh. If you’re still wondering what they mean, the basic symbolism is this:

A semicolon represents the place where a sentence could have ended, but the author chose to continue.

In the same way, any suicidal thought or behavior becomes a moment where a life could have ended, but didn’t. Thus, the semicolon is a symbol of overcoming in the battle against suicide, self harm, and the desire to give up hope.

Now this particular symbol takes on another meaning coming from the angle of a tattoo artist. You must understand that we tattooers see these semicolons all the time. Loads of people want to get this same tattoo and it becomes a kind of initiation for us students. It’s a hard tattoo to screw up, so we at the school probably get a higher number of semicolon requests than most shops.

Knowing this, you might be inclined to understand why the topic of the semicolon is often greeted with eye rolls and sighs in the tattooing community. Seriously? Another one? Yes. Another one. It has become a cliche, a bore, a drill for us. We joke about the predictability and lament the fact that people can’t seem to come up with a more original symbol for suicide awareness—maybe, we hope, one that would be more interesting to tattoo.

But wait.

I think we might be missing the point, here.

After centuries of mental health issues being dismissed, misdiagnosed, ignored, or mistreated, and more recently decades of stigma, shame, and isolation, how can we just dismiss something so plain and so brave? After all, people have banded together under shared symbolism for almost as long as humans have existed. The Christian fish helped persecuted people of faith find each other. British clans stand with pride behind a family crest. Peace signs presided over the movements of the 1960s. And now the LGBTQ community stands up under a bold rainbow.

Of course for every emblem of hope there is a sign of destruction. For every Star of David there is a Swastika. Symbols carry not only the potential for unity, but also the opportunity for devision. Hardly does a better example exist than in our own country, especially now.

Red and blue. Elephants and donkeys. Memes about racist overlords versus gif files of female politicians explaining away their corruption. In this world of political unrest and a drastic atmosphere of “Us vs. Them,” I, personally, can’t dismiss the power of something as simple as a semicolon that expresses a shared experience.

Dare I say it? We need more freaking semicolons. Or at least ideas like them. We need more outward symbols that open dialogue, invite compassion, and foster awareness. What is more simply and elegantly powerful than a tattoo that basically screams, “Hey! Me too!”?

We cannot afford to dismiss the power of the semicolon.

To be honest, the idea of permanent conversation starters and endless potential for sharing stories is one of my favorite things about tattoos in general. Tattoos open doors. I’ve experienced both the telling and the hearing of a good tattoo story many times, and I adore it still. It seems to me that the semicolon tattoo was born out of an art form that was made as a vessel for sharing our lives with each other. How can we disregard that?

I mean, how many of us would love to have a symbol that conveyed whatever in our lives was most urgent, essential, difficult to handle, or tough to explain? Wouldn’t it be great to have more visual signs for common struggles in day-to-day life? What about a symbol for:

“My inner critic is an a-hole.”

or

“I lived through a terrible childhood.”

or

“My spouse is abusive and I don’t know how to leave.”

or

“I’m allergic to peanuts and Halloween sucks.” ?

If we’re going to get personal here, I think I need a symbol for “Sometimes I still have bad days in my relationship with food, and I must have a glass heart because it keeps breaking.” Anyone else? Maybe?

All I’m saying is in this world of division, a little commonality is kind of a lovely thing.

We could all do with a little more “Hey! Me too!”