I have always loved tattoos. My father had some bad homemade tattoos, and I was fascinated by them as a child. When I was 13, my art teacher had Lyle Tuttle visit the class, and I new that I wanted to be a tattoo artist when I grew up
I
did my first tattoo about the time I got my first
tattoo by a professional at a shop. I watched this guy very closely as he tattooed me. I had a punk rock boyfriend once who explained to me how he had tattooed himself with a sewing needle and india ink. I put the two bits of knowledge together and started tattooing myself. I created a very detailed paisley on my foot, one little dot at a time. It took forever, but I didn't mind. When I showed my tattoo artist what I had done, he was so impressed with my moxie that he started giving me little tips here and there.
My friends all started wanting me to tattoo them. I enjoyed a little bit of fame in my circle, an instant popularity. People were always nagging me. It was a real kick. I was still using sewing needles at this point, and the tattoos would take forever.
Then this guy I met at Kentucky Fried Chicken (he worked there) gave me this tattoo gun he had made out of a tape-deck motor and a sewing machine pedal. He was an aspiring tattoo artist too, and when he saw what I was up to he wanted to help out.
I made a few minor adjustments to the gun (I made it so the gross parts were disposable so that I could keep things clean) and I was on my way. My little home tattooing business really started taking off.
It was fun for a while, but it was still a lot of work. Getting a solid color using just a single needle was particularly challenging, and the home-made rig was not very reliable; it would occasionally fall apart right in the middle of a tattoo!
I
finally did get a "real" tattoo gun. Some of my wealthier friends bought me the equipment in exchange for tattoos. It was great. I figured that with "real" equipment, I could really start getting good.
It didn't work out that way, though. I was having trouble using new equipment. I did all right, but I started feeling insecure.
This was in the early 90's before there was a tattoo shop on every corner, and the people who were tattooing at the time were unwilling to talk about how they did it. I was too afraid to push the issue so I never got any help. I almost got a gig apprenticing, but it fell through. It seemed like everything was starting to work against me.
I was also feeling insecure about my abilities as an artist. Customers would often come in with no source material, having an idea or style in their head that they could not communicate. I would draw what they asked for in my style, but because it didn't match what was in their head they would make me do it over and over. It was very frustrating for everybody, and it eventually wore away at my confidence.
Tattooing became really hard and annoying. I struggled on alone like that, until I just couldn't do it anymore and quit.
THE END
Comics
Paintings
Drawings
Sketchbook
Websites
SHOP!
Dragon