​My apprenticeship tasks began to be conducted in some sort of a routine that had never been instructed or discussed, but seemed to have simply developed through repetition until each step felt correct. Each morning starts with the tearing of kitchen towels, sorting the coffee machine to ensure there is sufficient water and it has been rinsed through on a cleaning cycle, and doing a ‘wilko run’, where I stock up on baby wipes, Vaseline, cling film, bin bags, Dettol, and kitchen roll.
 
After the main morning duties are complete I assist on desk, attending to customer enquiries and booking appointments after a consultation with an artist. Every time a customer requests a piece I have began to consider what their motivation is, and contemplate if their requested visual image is the most suitable to portray the intended message. These contemplations and observations assist in my consideration of avenues for my PhD research question to explore (see previous posts).
 
My apprentice-related tasks for the past few months have largely been to create carbon-copies of existing designs that other artists in the studio have created for tattoos they have executed. The process involves taking the printed design, placing it on stencil paper (which is essentially thick carbon paper which is placed onto the skin and acts as a guideline for the artist to go over with the tattoo machine) and going over the design with a pen.
 
The pressure applied to the stencil via the nib of the selected pen must be particularly firm. This is in order to ensure that once placed onto the skin of the client, the outline is strong, bold, and visible – unable to be be wiped away over the course of a longer sitting. Attempting to get the balance of firmness correct proved difficult, as I am used to drawing with a fineliner – being careful not to break the nib. This exercise involved using a much thicker and coarser ballpoint ben, which naturally is less fluid then a fineliner, but able to take much more pressure without breaking.
 
It was explained to me that the purpose of the exercise was to teach me to get used to creating lines and drawing in shapes that weren’t my own, which is something that tattooists must be familiar with as often the client may request a design that is outside of what the artist may ordinarily do. The larger designs often contain small details that interrupt the line, which is a technique used in designing tattoos that prevents the artist from having to tattoo a line or shape in a single pass; the introduction of a new element allows for a line break, thus ensuring a cleaner design.
 
I spent around 3 months or so redrawing the stencils of tattoos that had been completed, all of which where from a variety of artists who work in very different ways and of tattoos that where drawn in a variety of styles. One of the many benefits of working in a studio with such a diverse range of artists is that each of their individual processes are different from each other, and their use of a stencil is equally unique. This diversity helped in getting out of my own habits/approaches and being malleable to working in whatever way the design dictated, understanding how to interpret the works of others and make sense of it for myself. This was one of the primary purposes of the task.
 
Another part of the exercise is about not leaning into the stencil using the resting part of the drawing hand, as this could cause some of the carbon t be released onto it, which can interfere with the clarity of the design. Some of the examples shown are from early attempts of intricate pattern work design, where I have made a few notable errors. Hand position (as I later found out) is also important as there are specific ways to have your hand when holding a tattoo machine, so as to avoid wiping of the stencil and ensure that the needle is not going into the skin at too much of an angle (which would result in varied line qualities that aren’t understood as ‘clean’).
 
The process of creating stencils differs for each artist, depending on the design and how it’s been created. The deign may be hand drawn, digitally composed (often on an ipad) or drawn directly from the outlines of a photograph. Although hand stencilling is uncommon for most designs with a stencil machine being available (a device similar to a fax machine used to create carbon copied stencils), an understanding of the process is important in order to know what to do without a machine should any technological issues occur. Establishing awareness of the processes is part of a tradition that enables an apprentice to have full understanding of the reasons why such routines exist. Continuing to do the exercises increases both technical ability while paying homage to the education that is deemed respectable within the tattoo community. 

​Having completed my scroll exercise, my day to day tasks as an apprentice continued, including desk work and shadowing. During this period, I learned to feel comfortable in my environment through familiarity with procedures such as talking to customers about tattoo designs, assisting with customer/artist consultation, and booking the customer in on the calendar with a deposit.
 
These procedures have taught and continue to teach me what the possibilities are in tattooing in regards to cover-ups (tattooing over an existing tattoo design with something completely new), reworks (essentially, collaboration with other artists tend to be unaware they are part of a collaboration, and who have created a tattoo that is not of a suitable quality so requires a more accomplished artist to edit the piece), and matching client ideas to artists realisations, including any aesthetic negotiations that may be necessary to ensure the best piece possible. Part of desk work is a good understanding of artist to client suitability, and ensuring that what the client hopes for is possible by consultation with the artist. My understanding of what is possible independent of secondary input has naturally increased and assumingly will continue to do so – an essential skill for when I come to tattooing in the future.
 
A particular observation I had made while working on the desk was that often clients are rather vague on what it is that they would like to have tattooed, and may ask for examples of artwork to view and choose from – this perspective has its roots in traditional tattoo street shops but is not the procedure in custom tattoo shops in which each client is assured an original design. Some clients may request subject matter that conforms with current trends (e.g. Greek mythology, pocket watches, mandalas), and there are many requests for the names or portraits of loved ones.
 
While there is of course a place for such subject matter, my inclination is that the client may either want a tattoo that is simply executed well, while allocating them to a particular subculture or tribe to which they feel identified (often the tattoo may feel like an appropriate expansion of how the client has chosen to present their identity in regards to their appearance and demeanour), or that they hope to recognise the significance of another being to their personal identity using a method which is apparent, visible to all, and permanent.
 
If the design choices requested by clients can be categorised to such motivations, which through a brief and light discussion, I believe they can – then it may be fair to assume that there could perhaps be stronger methods of visually communicating such ideas than what has been requested.
 
Coming from a design background, my methods of working with a client have always been to understand what the client hopes to communicate in the imagery through discussion, and to formulate an output which manifests their vision. An integral part of the process in my own methods is in the realisation of what started as an abstraction set out in the brief. Most of the briefs have come about through organisations/companies that are well versed in art direction – in tattooing however, the client isn’t always necessarily of a creative mind-set. My belief is that tattooing is essentially another form of design, and part of being a strong designer is the non material process of creative problem solving, in addition to craftsmanship.
 
While tattooing has become increasingly visually impressive and the standards of craftsmanship continue to rise, works of a less creatively stimulating nature tends to just be honoured as part of the industry standard, and perhaps acts as the ‘bread and butter’ between more stimulating work for many artists. As previously stated, though this is a worthy and legitimate practice which will always have a place (some clients are set and happy with their ideas), it could also be possible that there are alternative ways to understand what it is that some of the clients are motivated by to get the tattoo and as a designer, to assist in fully realising their vision.
 
There are a host of methods to apply such thinking that may be applicable, but the core of the idea is to understand the client intent and offer something outside of what is commonplace and appears to be culturally normative. While my PhD research will be of a practice based nature, it is important to understand what formally conducted academic research into tattooing from a social sciences perspective has been conducted to combine with my empirical understanding of individual motivations for design choices, in order to offer any practical solutions to potential areas that may benefit from investigation.
 
At the time of writing (September 2017) one conceived potential method may simply be a more in depth client consultation than traditional (perhaps ‘conversation’ would be a more appropriate term). The actual tattooing process is very tactile and thus requires a lowering of defences and physical intimacy between both the tattooist and client. Spending a little more time discussing ideas with a client may introduce more of a participatory feel to the process, and thus increase the output of the tattoo, experience for those involved, and ultimately, the financial gain of the studio.
 
An example scenario may be that a 35-year-old father wants the name of his 6-year-old daughter tattooed onto his forearm in script. The request can be broken down to the stage before the idea has been formulated into abstract ideas, which might be that the client wants 1/ a tattoo to express his love for his daughter and 2/ an aesthetic of formality through what might be considered a conservative font. From these ideas and through conversation of the significance that his daughter made to his life, her personality, particular memories etc. ideas for visuals may then be generated. He may have a memory of being on holiday in Lanzarote where he was swimming in the sea and felt a strong connection to his daughter, and the design may be two sets of swim fins and snorkels emerging from splashing water, with a mountainous background indicative of volcanoes. Equally, the tattoo may well be in script, but it could be in the handwriting of his daughter, and above his heart – making it a more personal expression of the intimacy of their relationship.
 
Though the above example is of a very superficial and mind-to-screen example of potential implications of the application of design methodologies applied to tattooing, it serves as a starting point from which I am able to consider alternative ways of demonstrating my ideas better. As I continue my apprenticeship I hope to conduct some first hand data gathering of client requests and what imagery they show to communicate their desired visual style of tattooing, in order to better understand how I may conduct my practical research. 

​After my initial exercise in tonal values through the drawing of Frankensteins monster, my normal tasks resumed in the studio – mainly cleaning booths, sourcing supplies, and shadowing artists while asking questions. It has been brought to my attention multiple times that the way in which my apprenticeship was panning out was unconventional, in that I wasn’t being subject to insulting behaviour from my peers (at least not on a particularly harsh level). They would often give me examples of occasions during their apprenticeships where they had been asked to do unreasonable things, such as wash the boss’s car or do other entirely unrelated tasks to their education, and often be humiliated in the process.
 
At Triplesix it is clear that they have my best interest at heart, and although I am subject to some condescending comments and unpleasant behaviour, it is always meant in good fun, and offered as a side dish to an array of helpful and constructive advice. I’ve learned how to react to innuendos, and to recognise when jokes have been set up to which I am the punch line, meeting them in good humour (and occasionally respond accordingly, depending on my gauge of how sore the sting might be, and if it will be met at the level that can be still considered humorous!).
 
Part of what I’ve learned after working in the industry now for 3 and a half months is that tattooists are often sensitive beings who struggle with acceptance of social norms and cultural programming, and so react accordingly with jokes that might be considered politically incorrect, or other symbols of non-conformist lifestyle. While I initially struggled and felt that I might come across too serious (my experience of learning new skills has always been from an academic perspective, which is very much taught in a comparatively formal way) I realised that I shared more commonalities with my peers than any other group of individuals I had worked with with any other context. While my sensitivity is expressed through what might be considered ‘radical honesty’ (i.e being uncomfortably open about my insecurities, fears and flaws), others I work with express it and navigate their way through in with humour or lifestyle. There are multiple artists all with their own nuances, and it seems apparent that there is a common wave of something shared between them all – I believe I am also riding on that same wave, in some form or another.
 
My next drawing task was to sit and draw scrolls or banners, that are common subject in traditional or ‘old school’ tattooing. The task was set so that I began without any advice as to how to approach it, to demonstrate how it was incorrect and compare to an improved version that would be produced after being given some advice. When I sat down to begin, one of the artists came over to show me an example of possible ways to approach the task, which I then attempted, however we where both unaware that I was meant to perform the task incorrectly the first time.
 
When Bez, the studio founder, saw how I was approaching it, he commented that I was ‘supposed to do it wrong the first time so I can see how to do it right the second time’. Fortunately, I had still managed to do it incorrectly (which of course was pointed out with light hearted enthusiasm) and then shown how to perform it correctly after wards. The process involved creating a long horizontal curved line, and then mirroring with a second line underneath the first, and making sense of where vertical lines might then be placed to create the illusion or a wrapping scroll. Once this had been practised multiple times, I would then be able to consider the material of the scroll and how it might flow around the object that it was wrapping, and where the light might hit and affect the banner.
 
After multiple attempts met with insecurity in my ability to comprehend my approach, and anxiety that others would be able to observe my poor results, I began to recognise progress and logic to what I was putting on paper. What I was producing was starting to resemble what it was aimed to resemble, though despite looking correct I was struggling to be able to forecast the output prior to putting pencil on paper. After a few attempts I did begin to be able to plan the placement, flow, and texture of the scroll without needing to just figure it out as I went on, and my pages began to look intentional rather than exploratory.
 
Though the illustrative work I create may not necessarily utilise scrolls, the principles are certainly relevant to any elements of work that utilise flow, which is something I try to incorporate in my compositions often. It was additionally pointed out to me that the way in which I draw for myself will be very different how I might draw for a tattoo, as it wouldn’t be practical to spend 12 hours drawing for a 3-hour tattoo. The task was set in the understanding that in the early years of my career I would be largely doing ‘walk-in’ tattoos (names, symbols, small designs etc.), so wouldn’t necessarily have much more than 20 minutes to draw for such designs.
 
Though only a technical exercise that was conducted to allow me to approach my work with greater versatility, it also served as a demonstration into how a conventional tattoo brief may be instigated (i.e. the client want’s a name in a scroll that wraps around an image of ‘x’). Below are demonstrations of my attempts at the the exercises, in which my progress appears to be noticeable through practice.
 
While my PhD research (beginning in October) will serve to explore how multidisciplinary and cross-cultural influences can enrich contemporary tattooing, it is important to understand and recognise the traditions that are already in place in order to promote their artistic evolution. Exercises of such a nature are integral to the foundations of traditional tattooing, and contemporary approaches are rooted in the expansion of traditional foundations.  

After having apprenticed at Triplesix for only 2 months, I have become aware more of methods I need to practice to improve my drawing skills more than I had recognised in my whole freelance career. Though repetition of specific drawing styles may lead to improved technical ability and craftsmanship, there is little room for creative growth through repetition alone. To advance, it’s necessary to get uncomfortable.
 
The times I have tried out new techniques prior to my apprenticeship have generally been through digital means, with the comfort of the ‘cmd + z’ command on Photoshop to undo my errors. Following such methods don’t allow for advancement beyond what I am already capable of. The apprenticeship tasks appear to have forced me to push myself into uncomfortable territory, tackling areas of my work that may have been overlooked, and tightening the overall compositions simultaneously. In yoga, each asana is performed in perfect form when every element of the body is consciously considered. The same principles of awareness are applicable to illustration, design, and tattoo’s.
 
My first visual task assigned was to replicate a horror-themed image of Frankensteins monster, pictured below. Bez, the founder of Triplesix made it explicit that it was an exercise in viewing and in tonal work, and not an exercise in drawing/illustrating. The image was selected due to it’s high amounts of contrasting tonal values, which in tattooing are broken down into darks, mid-tones, and highlights.​

The process involved creating a stencil of the image outlines, before filling in all of the darker tones, then moving on the varying midtones, with the highlights mostly consisting of negative space. As Bez had forecasted, I found myself approaching the exercise simply as a drawing through ingrained muscle memory, spending more time on small sections at a time than I realised I should have been. The temptation is to utilise methods that are comfortable and familiar, and so to avoid this I was advised to break the image down into small sections, disregarding the image as a whole and approaching it merely as tonal rectangles.
 
The exercise was completed using pencil, which is a medium I utilise occasionally but in a somewhat restrictively stylized way. This method involved performing multiple passes of the graphite across sections that had already touched, building up tone in passes in a way that may be comparable to tattooing. After taking some time to complete the task (the result of which is shown below), being rather precious in the process, I showed it to Bez for feedback.
 
A lesson that I hadn’t quite anticipated learning during this exercise but was reminded of was to be thick-skinned, and that constructive feedback may be difficult but is essential for growth; as stated earlier, growth comes from discomfort. Bez broke down my errors bit by bit, highlighting my lack of midtones in the image, pointing out how I was still creating the image from an interpretive standpoint rather than a literal representation of the reference material. With a pencil in hand, he roughly darkened down all the areas that where still too light, that I had not had the confidence to touch in fear of destroying my image. Again, I had trouble reconciling that I was completing an exercise, and not a drawing.
​ 
My initial thoughts after the tough-love I received where that my image now looked flat, but I soon realised that it also shared a far greater likeness to the reference than it had prior, and just needed some more work to push the contrasting elements a little further. I spent some time attempting to correct my mistakes, this time with a little less of a delicate hand and a slightly less concern for the result appearing perfect. I found this approach to allow me to relax more into the process, and noticed myself deriving enjoyment from the task rather than feeling the anxiety about completing it correctly that I previously experienced. Not being as concerned about the final result allowed for a more recreational approach, as opposed to that of a work task.
 
Though certainly still very far from perfect, the finished result appears to have a more accurate aesthetic and greater textural properties than what I would have achieved had I not had the advice of a mentor. Though I have experience in teaching illustration to undergraduate students, my specialism is in conceptual development and encouraging lateral approaches to creativity. The specific practice of actual drawing techniques is something that I have not directly addressed for some time, but is crucial to advance to better communicate concepts. This first task of my apprenticeship has been a beneficial initiation back into studentship, from which I have a lot to learn.