John
(Names changed for confidentiality purposes)

Tattoo 1

John initially came into the studio seeking a tattoo of a symbol from a game that he plays as part of the larger online gaming community. The symbol was circular in shape, with a figure of a coloured fist in the centre and a blue colour in-between the fist and the circle. Carrying a nervous disposition and some difficulty with speech due to a stammer, I tried to adopt a lightness of tone and to have a consultation away from the studio desk area (where they are typically conducted) in favour of the seating area. This was to ensure a more informal setting that I hoped would make John feel more comfortable. After a few minutes’ discussion of size and placement, John was advised to book 3 hours, which would total at £120.
 
On the day of Johns appointment, the regular procedure  that is undertaken for each tattoo was followed – the work station was prepared and sterilised, before the pre-printed stencils of varying sizes where shown to John for his selection, each of which were placed against the part of his arm to be tattooed as an indicator of how they might appear on the body. Once selected, the image was placed through the thermal copier machine to create the transfer, that was then applied to the intended body part, and after a 10-minute waiting period for the stencil to dry, tattooing commenced.
 
The process begins with the black coloured outline, before moving on to colour, working from the darkest to the lightest tone to avoid causing any ‘murkiness’ in appearance. During the tattooing process, conversation ensued surrounding the design choice. John was in his early twenties, and a part of the online PC gaming community. He told me how he was getting this tattoo ahead of his upcoming trip to Center Parcs, where he and a few others who also play the game from which the symbol is from where going together – all of which were from different parts of the UK. His choice to get the tattoo of the gaming symbol prior to his holiday was in part an effort to express his commitment to the community to which he is involved.
 
Part of my social development as a practitioner in a service industry involves ensuring client comfort through attempting to relate. Though not at all interested in gaming to the same extent as John, and so unable to offer much to the conversation in such a regard, I mentioned that I had a strong desire to play the game ‘Street fighter’, that is rooted in a romanticised nostalgic memory of playing the game as an adolescent. John transpired to be very knowledgeable about ‘Street Fighter’, and a prolonged period of time was spent in discussion of our memories of the game.
 
As the conversation developed, John began to ask about my job as a tattooist. He had looked at my work via my ‘Instagram’ page after booking an appointment, as my ‘Instagram’ link is stated on my business card. He noticed that many of the pieces I had created where in black ink only, and stylistically different from the piece I was doing for him, and he was curious as to what made me take on his brief. I explained that the skills required to complete his tattoo could be considered that of a craftsperson – insomuch as the design was already produced and decided, and it simply required a practitioner who was able to work with the materials of tattooing in a skilled manner to create it for him. I went on to explain how although my personal taste maybe more accurately reflected in some of the pieces I had included in my ‘Instagram’ portfolio, I was capable of tattooing in other styles also, and that my thoughts on the tattoo output are of secondary value to the client. I expressed that I was simply grateful to be tattooing, and would only take on work that I felt I good do a sufficient job of.
 
As I informed John of this, I recognised a slight emotion of guilt that was rooted in the knowledge that other more experienced tattooists in the same studio would have been able to produce the tattoo to a higher standard in regards to line quality and colour saturation, but I had taken this job on myself as I had dealt with the initial inquiry and believed I could produce the tattoo suitably. The desire to take on the job in the knowledge that others could produce a better output was not simply for financial sustenance alone (though this may often be the case in similar scenarios with many tattooists), but also to adhere to the pressures of working as a junior tattooist in a successful studio filled with more qualified practitioners, displaying a degree of confidence that demonstrates a desire to be successful and generate income for the studio.
 
As I looked at the tattoo I was producing and noted the comfort that John appeared to be in on a social level comparative to his arrival, despite the physical pain generated for a long duration, I considered how the tattoo experience is more than simply the output of the interaction. As John had trouble with speech occasionally and had vocalised having issues with sociability, I made it my intention to create a space for him to feel comfortable as far as possible, and engaged in conversation. I considered some of the tattooing experiences I have had, with some of the most respected tattooist internationally, and how some of them appeared to not care for the psychological comfort of me as a client in a way that I aim to do for my own clients.
 
Though I am very pleased with the outcome of tattoos from such experiences, the tattoo as a material form is also associated with the memory of a largely negative experience in which I was made to feel inferior or considered as indifferent through lack of interaction, or the audience of egotistical ramblings. When looking at my own tattoos, I recall the experience of getting them, and thus perceive them differently to how I would have, had the tattooist conducted themselves in a different manner. I considered how my attempt to bring myself to the experience of tattooing in such a way that increased the likelihood of a more positive memory for the client could be considered a credential that is valuable to the role, but harder to express in material form.
 
As John and I continued discussing tattooing, he stated that he really liked the style of the work I was producing as a visual artist / designer, and that he would like to have another gaming tattoo produced in a similar style to my own. John then stated he would like to have a ‘Street Fighter’ character piece tattooed somewhere on his body, and I suggested that above the ankle would be a suitable placement due to the size of the area and the size he wanted the piece (relatively small, meaning that somewhere such as an arm would make the piece look lost). As the tattoo experience ended, John stated that he would consider a further tattoo based on our discussion, and wanted to spend some time deciding on a character to be depicted. After receiving aftercare instructions, John had informed me he would be in touch in the future to book in for his next piece. The finished tattoo appeared suitable to fulfil what he required, and I contemplated how if he was unhappy with it, he would not be considering returning to get another piece from me. 

Tattoo 2

A few days later, I received an email from John regarding his character choice for his tattoo. He had selected a character named ‘Vega’ that wore a face mask and a claw, which he deemed to be suitably visually interesting. I invited John to come to studio to discuss further and make a deposit to secure the booking. A few days later John came to the studio, and we discussed the size and specific placement of the tattoo. On the character selection screen of ‘Street Fighter’ games, the player icons are made to face opposing each other to indicate that it is ‘x’ vs ‘x’. John and I considered how as a placement choice we could make it so that the tattoo he gets of ‘Vega’ on his right ankle could be joined by another character being tattooed in the future to echo the way that the selection screen appears.
 
Enthusiastic about the idea for placement, John booked in his first appointment, with the intention of booking in for another in another in the near future in the equivalent place of the opposite leg. On the day of the appointment, the regular procedures were followed of preparing the skin area, placing the stencil on the leg, and performing the tattoo. The character of ‘Vega’ was positioned to face outwards from the inside of the lower left leg. The size of the design was dictated by the area in which it would be placed (in addition to client budget and preference), and as a single tattoo, appeared to read better positioned in such a way compositionally. On leaving the studio, John expressed that he would be back in the near future to book in for another piece.
 
After a few days, John emailed to inquire about coming into the studio again to chat. Though emailing ahead to meeting is not necessary, I had noticed how John appears to feel more comfortable with a formally arranged meeting than just simply, ‘turning up’. We arranged a time and date for a consultation, which John turned up for punctually. With many clients, the consultation takes place stood up over the desk area, however as I had sensed in the past that John is more comfortable talking when seated, I asked him to take a seat in the studio waiting area, where I joined him and offered him some water from the cooler. He showed me how his almost-healed tattoo, which he seemed happy with, and we discussed another character to add to the opposite leg. Unsure of his selection at that point, but sure that he wanted to be tattooed, an appointment was made for the following week, with the request for a decision a few days later to allow sufficient time to produce a drawing. 

​As with many disciplines, a practitioner of tattooing must create work that they both do and don’t resonate with on a personal level. In some cases, the client is interested in getting the work of the particular practitioner as a visual artist. In many cases, however, the client’s selection of practitioner will be based on their assumed basic ability, their hourly rate, and how mutually convenient the available dates/times to perform tattooing are. Ryan was an example of the latter.
 
Work that isn’t personally satisfying to the tattooists’ taste is not necessarily dissatisfying to undertake however, as such pieces may still present aspects of challenge and opportunities to practice improved craftspersonship. In addition, the collaborative nature of the practice means that the client satisfaction is of central importance, which creates an altruistic sense of satisfaction for the tattooist when this is achieved. In the early stages of a tattooist’s career, it is normative to tattoo pieces of such a nature more frequently than it is to tattoo pieces that satisfy personal creative desire. This was the case for the tattoo I completed for Ryan.
 
Ryan was introduced to me by a member of desk staff as I was tattooing another client, as he was seeking a tattooist who was able to extend a large tribal piece that had been tattooed previously on the outer side of his upper arm, to his forearm. He wanted to continue the piece in a similar style, to make the piece appear as a cohesive whole. Ryan had moved geographical location from a small post-industrial town outside of London for personal reasons, and was thus unable to have his tattoo completed by the tattooist who had started it. Ryan a gentleman aged around his mid-fifties, and stated that he considers Sunderland to be more his home than his place of birth.
 
The consultation process involved looking at Ryans’ existing tattoo and taking photographs using my mobile phone, from which I would later reference when creating a preliminary sketch in a shape that matches what he already has. It was explained to Ryan that I am a junior practitioner and my rates are £30 per hour less than my peers, and thus not as competent as some of the others in the studio due to my comparative lack of experience. Ryan was happy with my skill level being suitable to complete the piece, and advised to book for a full day if possible, or less time if his availability or budget would not allow for this. He then made a 3 hour appointment for a Saturday in April, and was advised that the tattoo would be started but not completed within the 3 hour period.
 
Prior to Ryans’ appointment, I had composed on an a4 sheet of paper the photographs of Ryans’ arm that had been taken from different angles during the consultation process. On a separate piece of paper and larger in size, a photograph of the area that would be tattooed was printed and used as the surface on which the preliminary designs would be created. In keeping with the existing shapes of the tribal design, rough shapes where drawn over the areas of non-tattooed skin on the photograph, using a yellow sharpie marker. Theses shapes where made to appear visually consistent and harmoniously with the anatomical structure of the forearm. The shapes where then refined further using an orange marker, and finalised using a blue marker, creating a more formal and considered reference. This drawing process is comparable to the method of ‘free-handing’ that many practitioners use in favour of using a stencil, where deemed more appropriate. It was unnecessary to research any significance culturally attributed to tribal shapes, as Ryans’ existing tattoo had already established a set aesthetic, and my role in this instance was merely as a designer utilising a visual medium, not a creator or facilitator of the communication of symbolic meaning.
 
On the day of Ryans’ appointment, the usual procedure of set-up was performed, and Ryans’ arm was shaved and cleaned using an alcohol wipe to remove any excess debris. The preliminary drawing was then placed in the left hand, which was used to inform the freehand procedure following the same format of using lighter coloured sharpie markers to darker coloured markers, echoing the process of drawing on paper. As the photographs are 2-dimensional they are unable to represent the form in the same way as it is in material reality, and thus some customising from the original design was undertaken in order to better fit the flow of the arm. This was particularly around the elbow area as their it was important to make the upper and the lower arm harmonious in design, rather than clearly disparate pieces.
 
After applying the final marks on the arm using a blue sharpie marker, the tattooing process began. The process involved using a relatively thin 0.5 liner (5 small needles soldered together) to go over the shapes drawn on the body and create a permanent stencil, which would later be saturated in black. This meant that the line thickness was not important at this stage, as rather than be reflective of the finished outcome, it was acting as an aid of completion to the process. For this same reason, the ‘cleanness’ of the line is not as important as it would be if ‘lining’ alone was the purpose and the piece was not to be internally coloured black.
 
On creating the first line, I had realised that due to the layered pigments of marker ink on top of each other, the stencil had become very dark. As a result, the thin black tattooed line became very difficult to distinguish amongst the thick, dark, instructional blue line that was being followed. This meant that keeping the line consistent was increasingly difficult, and as a result the blood that came to the surface of the tattooed line was used as an indicator of what had been tattooed, rather than the actual pigment on skin.
 
On recognition of the marker being too dark to act sufficiently as a guide, I began to sweat and feel severe tension and anxiety. As the process was too far undertaken to make opting for an alternative possible, the approach of following the blood line was adopted until the entire piece was able to be wiped clean with a baby wipe. The line appeared not clean, but sufficient to serve the purpose it was intended to serve in this instance, and a sense of relief was gained. Once both of the large tribal shapes where lined in, the colour packing using a larger needle grouping (magnum needle) began, and I spoke with Ryan about his background, work, and interests.
 
The sitting was booked for 3 hours, and a large part of practitioner conduct involves ensuring client comfort. In part this means giving them an opportunity to speak about themselves, and express their beliefs and opinions in the knowledge they are being listened to. As we were discussing Ryans’ home town and his feelings towards it, he expressed unfavourable sentiments as it had what he termed an “big Asian problem’. He then went on the express views and opinions of Asian communities that, in conservative terms, could be understood as deductive and prejudice. As the tone of communication and nature of Ryans’ opinions are in vast contrast to my own in a way that could be deemed offensive, I found that I was subconsciously applying more pressure with my needle while packing the ink into the skin. I didn’t vocalise my contrast to his perspective, as I didn’t deem it pragmatic to fulfilling my role efficiently, but rather attempted to subtly but noticeably direct the conversation to an alternative topic.
 
One of the issues I have had as a tattooist is in my discomfort in the unavoidable necessity of inducing pain, that is a consequence of tattooing. This manifests itself materially in my insufficient application of pressure of needles and depth of insertion into the skin, and results in the tattooed area not being sufficiently saturated and thus requiring a second pass. In turn, this demands more time being spent on the area, which can be more painful for the client overall, and less economical in regards to both time and money (as they are required to pay for extra time, or are sometimes quoted a set cost based on projected time, which is honoured irrespective of actual time spent tattooing). When Ryan had expressed beliefs and attitudes that I had found ethically distasteful, my conduct subconsciously was altered in such a way that was more suited to performing my role successfully.
 
I continued tattooing with the increased pressure, recognising that I indeed was not causing any unnecessary trauma to the skin, but instead tattooing with superior efficiency, meaning the client received a higher-quality tattoo in less time than they would have had I applied less pressure.
 
One of the unique and positive attributes of tattooing is the opportunity to have long-form conversations with those who I may not have an opportunity or desire to otherwise. As I continued to tattoo and talk with Ryan, I found that although we had some severely contrasting opinions, on a human level I was able to be in his company without any severe discomfort. I considered how culturally and generationally we differed, and how this might affect how we deem validity of information sources such as newspapers and news articles. Ryans’ culturally induced reality tunnel was different to my own, but I recognised through the lengthy interaction that the medium of tattooing allows for that despite contrasting identity constructs, we were able to coexist harmoniously, and enjoy (or at least respectfully tolerate) aspects of each other’s company. His experiences of life had shaped how he exists in the World, in the same way that my experiences have shaped my reality and my conduct.
 
Tattooing Ryan taught me not only how to improve aspects of my own craftspersonship and ability as a designer materially, but also how to both interact with and holistically appreciate / understand, somebody who I may otherwise had tried to avoid communication with. His experiences of life had shaped how he exists in the World, in the same way that my experiences have shaped my reality and my conduct. That is not to say that holding oppressive beliefs is justified and ethically sound. It is rather an acknowledgement, through compassion that has been cultivated in the time taken for communication that tattooing necessitates, that multiple external factors shape an identity.
 
My role as a tattooist is not to adopt a position of moral arbiter and attempt to change Ryans’ views, however toxic they may appear. Attempting to do so may actually be detrimental to the likelihood of his return, and thus bad for business. My reflection and analysis of my personal experience is an attempt to generate understanding on both a tangible and intangible level of one aspect of the broader cultural experience of tattooing that exists in multiplicity. How each practitioner approaches and interprets each interaction is contingent upon how they engage with the world on an individual basis. Though this account may be unique to me, many other practitioners have comparable accounts of experiences that have similarly informed their conduct. My account thus contributes elucidation on a small fraction of the shape of the tattooists multifaceted occupational role. 

Rebecca
(Name changed for confidentiality purposes)
 
Rebecca had contacted me via Facebook when she advised from desk staff that I would be able to tattoo her for a lower rate than the resident artists. She had sent the studio a message inquiring about the cost and availability to get a tattoo of a very small heart-shaped outline on her wrist area. Tattoos of this nature are referred to as ‘minimum-charge’ tattoos, and are generally considered those in which the actual tattooing process will take up to around 15 minutes, such as a name/date, initial, or basic pictorial piece. These tattoos are generally not sought after by tattooists, and an inquiry from a desk-staff member may be met with resistance.
 
A minimum charge tattoo at Triplesix is £40, however Rebecca was advised that she could get the tattoo for the lower rate of £20 if she was willing to be tattooed by the studio apprentice (me), with the price reflective of practitioner experience. Rebecca had messaged me personally to arrange an appointment around her working schedule and asked to come in to the studio for 10am. Despite the small size of the tattoo, the set-up of the work-station is the same. All equipment is thoroughly disinfected and wrapped before and after use, and a toxic-waste bag is used for each client, irrespective of the size of the tattoo. In many cases, tattoos of this nature take less time to perform than setting up the work station does, which is partly the reason why many tattooists are resistant to them. I prepared the station in preparation for Rebecca’s arrival, and a sheet of printed heart images in different sizes to provide a variety for her to choose from.   
 
I noticed who I assumed to be Rebecca waiting outside of the shop with her boyfriend having a cigarette at around 9:50 am. I assumed it to be Rebecca due to the direction of the eye gaze and picked up on a sense of nervousness from her actions and from my experience of observing others outside the shop displaying similar characteristics. Rebecca had turned 18 in the early days of December, and this was to be her first tattoo. When she entered the studio she approached the desk and was given a consent form, providing ID which was photocopied, and asked to take a seat. As I was aware of her nerves, I made an effort to appear as welcoming and approachable as possible to attempt to put her at ease.
 
I approached the seats in which her and her partner where seated, introduced myself, smiled, and wished her a belated happy birthday. I brought the sheet of various sized hearts over to her to have a look at and asked her to pick a size that best matched her intentions. During this time, I noticed how my behaviour and tone shifted in order to accommodate for her apparent discomfort, in a way that felt natural due to familiarity of tattooing others displaying similar characteristics. I reflected on how these characteristics where in keeping with my role as a tattooist, and how such conduct tends to be more necessary when dealing with tattoos that may be considered to adopt a craft approach and to be tattooed on what has been termed a ‘person with tattoos’ rather than a ‘tattooed person’ , that is, a person who may have a tattoo but not necessarily be considered part of the ‘tattooed community’.  Rebecca had selected her chosen size design, and then told to relax while I created a stencil for her tattoo, and that I would let her know when it’s ready. I offered her a drink of water while she waited and assured her that the set-up would probably take longer than the actual tattooing procedure, in an effort to make her feel less nervous and more at ease.
 
After running the design through the stencil machine, I invited Rebecca and her partner over to the booth. I brought a chair from the waiting area for her partner to sit on, and after inviting her to remove her jacket, I asked Rebecca to indicate where on the wrist she wanted the tattoo. She indicated that she wanted the design to be slightly right-aligned on her right wrist, and I asked her to assume a natural posture for the stencil application process to make for a representative indication of how the tattoo would appear in lived context. I noted the tension in Rebecca’s posture initially, which can be common when placing stencils on even the most experienced patrons or ‘tattooed person(s)’.
 
Amidst the noticeable tension I became aware of the surroundings that are every day and normative to me and my colleagues but may be intimidating to those unfamiliar with the tattoo studio environment. The distinct smell of antiseptic ‘Dettol’ used to mop the floors on a daily basis, the equipment within the station such as a tattoo bed (massage bed), arm rest, or trolley, all of which are wrapped in cling film, with a box of latex gloves nearby to be worn when touching the skin. The array of ink bottles in the ink wells, and the distinctive tattooing stool, machine, and equipment – such as individual sheets of kitchen roll, baby wipes, ink caps, petroleum jelly, and needles. This assemblage of tattoo culture is what I recall romanticising in youth for its novelty and distinctiveness, which led my enthusiasm and interest in the medium. I considered how although the collective experience of being in a tattoo studio may seem welcoming to myself, to an outsider it may be particularly intimidating, with the classical associations of pain elicited from the presence of needles and sounds of buzzing tattoo machinery. In light of such considerations – I noted how to perform my role optimally for clients of a similar nature requires skills in compassion and empathy, as much as skill in inserting pigment into the skin.

Once the stencil was applied, I asked Rebecca to take a seat on the wrapped tattoo bed while it dried. I informed her I was going to select the appropriate needles for the tattoo based on her size selection, invited her to have another cigarette if she required it, and offered her another glass of water. I encouraged her to take a seat when she was ready, and to relax – assuring her that the expectation of pain is generally reported to exceed the actual pain felt for most first-time tattoo patrons. After around 10 minutes I placed Rebeccas arm on an arm rest, adjusted the bed to an appropriate height, and informed Rebecca that I was going to begin the procedure by going over the stencil initially, before wiping away any excess ink with a baby wipe and evaluating if any areas required an additional pass. I felt it was important to indicate my intentions to Rebecca, to eliminate any potential concerns that may occur due her unfamiliarity with the process. This can be compared to good dental or medical practice, where the practitioner outlines the procedural conduct.
 
After ensuring Rebecca was ready and informing her that if she wanted a break at any point to let me know, I created the first line of the tattoo. As the needle left the skin for the first time, I looked up towards Rebecca and asked, “how is it?” – to which she responded, “not anywhere near as bad as I was expecting” with a tone of relief made apparent through the laughter within the vocalisation that can be assumed to be a relief on tension. As I continued the tattooing procedure, I made an effort to maintain ‘small-talk’ asking Rebecca what her plans where for the rest of the day, what she studies, and what her and her partner have planned for the Christmas period. I considered the importance of ‘small-talk’ as not only a method on maintaining comfort of a client, but in creating a relationship that may potentially be maintained in the future if the client considers another tattoo.
 
After the initial outline, the excess ink was wiped away revealing the tattooed design. I noticed areas in which I had not inserted pigment sufficiently, which I put down to both my junior status and my desire to avoid inflicting pain (for more accomplished tattooists, a tattoo of such a nature does not require a second pass). I informed Rebecca that I would now go over the areas that required another pass and assured her that it wouldn’t take much longer for the procedure to be completed. I also informed her that she was sitting very well, in an effort to maintain enthusiasm and distract from any pain. After around 2 – 3 minutes, the tattoo was complete. I wiped away the excess ink, and asked Rebecca if she wanted to take a look at it the mirror before I wrapped it up in cling film for protection.
 
As Rebecca walked toward the mirror, I paid attention to her expression in order to gauge if she was satisfied with the outcome. She smiled as she looked at her wrist in the mirror, rotating it to view it from various angles, before returning to the booth and declaring she was happy with the outcome and that she thinks it looks ‘cute’. The satisfaction demonstrated by her shift in demeanour may be induced from both the acquisition of a new tattoo, as well as having overcome a fear successfully. I responded that I was very pleased she was happy with it, and then placed a protective layer of petroleum jelly over the piece and wrapping it with cling-film, secured by micro-pore tape. I then discussed aftercare procedures and gave her a printed sheet which explained what I had vocalised, informed her to call back into the studio should she have any question or concerns, and thanked her for allowing me to participate in her first tattoo. She paid me £20, thanked me, and left the studio with her partner.
​
As I went to clean the booth where I was working, another tattooist informed me that it would be more time efficient to not wrap all aspects of the working area for tattoos of such a small nature (I had wrapped the full bed but was only required to wrap the arm rest). While removing all the cling film wrappings and disinfecting my equipment for the next tattoo of the day, I considered how tattoos of such a nature (often referred to as minimum-charge tattoos) require skills from the practitioner that are external to tattooing and also may outweigh the gravity of difficulty of the tattooing procedure. In addition to my technical skills needing to adapt to each brief from a practical standpoint, my conduct must also be malleable in order to effectively perform my role.
 
As a generally introverted and self-aware 29-year-old heterosexual male based in the post-industrial town of Sunderland, tattooing an 18 year old female who I have never met and is getting her first tattoo in the knowledge that I am an apprentice carries a certain gravity. In addition to executing the tattoo, I am also required to bypass my social anxiety; address the client in an appropriate manner so as not to patronise her due to the age gap while simultaneously ensuring her comfort. I must touch her for a prolonged period of time in a manner typically reserved for traditional forms of intimacy, being careful not to make the client feel uncomfortable, and explaining the necessity of my conduct. I also have to contend to the pressure and responsibility that I assume in taking on a tattoo in which any mistake is visually apparent, for a client new to tattooing, and as a junior practitioner. I must additionally feel ethically justified in offering the tattoo at a lower rate than that of a senior tattooist to a client to whom budget may be a greater consideration, due to age and access to income.
 
Factors of such a nature are not representative of tattooing practice in general, but certainly are true of many minimum-charge tattoos conducted on people with fewer tattoos. The tattoo on Rebecca parallels similar context-appropriate considerations to that on a 65-year-old pensioner, getting the initials of their deceased spouse. Though seemingly simple from a design perspective, such tattoos demand a skillset from the practitioner that is distinct from tattooing practice in isolation. These intangible skills are to be cultivated as part of the occupational requirements of a tattooist. To acknowledge importance to the role thus requires us to re-asses the criteria of what we mean when we talk about what constitutes a ‘good tattooist’ more broadly.  Tattooing is a contingent and inherently collaborative medium; the practitioner must therefore be malleable to the multifaceted conditions of the brief.