So, this month marks my 17th year in tattooing. I started my apprenticeship when I was 18. I started being a shop helper at 17. I cleaned the bathroom, organized the counters with jewelry, swept, mopped, etc. On really busy days I would make stencils for the artists.
It was a slow start for me, I think. But I started so young, that the experience has been insurmountable, priceless and very trying.
I think some real insight into me is that I am an constant journal keeper. I have been writing journals and keeping sketch books since I was 14 years old. I have kept them all except for a few that I have burned in fires once I deem them to be too toxic.
It is funny because it has been years since I opened up the box I keep them in- and I only keep some things. I am terrible at archiving. I have hardly any old photos because I believe once things are in the past, they should remain there. However, some photos have survived through my purging.
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| "eat blueberries" |
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| Random figure studies |
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| That one time at Sacred rose, I was cool enough to ride a Ducati. |
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| I think I was 20 here. Too bad my stomach doesn't look like that anymore. |
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| This is my niece at a tattoo convention in '05. I had to cut out myself cause the person I worked with drove me crazy |
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| business cards over time |
It is crazy to think how much goes into really BEING a tattooer. Whenever I think about what it takes to do this line of work and how I have completely lived my life in tattooing, I am humbled. Then I open this box and thumb though my journals and I think Holy fuck!
To summarize, I look through my books and the word tattooing is on just about every page. My struggles with it. Or the ease and flow of it...Then I see lots of turmoil from men. I use my books to work out my woes from the boyfriends I have had. And then there is all these notes on spell casting, moon cycles, astrology and witchcraft. So, I see a pattern there. Tattoos, men and wicca...
To take you back to the very beginning for me, (I have shared this with some) There was a guy that got me started in tattooing. His name was Jay. He gave me an apprenticeship- after all he'd only been tattooing a short time but was dumb enough to agree with taking me on. (I got lucky) I think he doubted me for a long time. But as fate would have it, we fell in love anyway and we ended up keeping a shop together for about 5 years I believe. Once that ran it's course and it was time for a much needed change, I left for San Francisco. Which is a whole other unruly chapter I tried to sweep under the rug. I am grateful for the very hard lessons I learned from Jay whether personal or artistically...With all this reminiscing I just feel so honored and grateful to have fallen into this path of tattooing. I make a livelihood from tattooing and I am indebted to all that have been a part of my journey thus far.
