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.
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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.

Distinct from other creative disciplines, skill refinement and development of tattooing practice typically requires the skin of someone external to the practitioner. Development of skills and ability is only possible through repetitive practice, however due to the inherently collaborative nature of tattooing, sourcing ‘materials’ for practice (other people) can be challenging.
 
In order to reduce this problem, I was advised to produce pre-drawn tattoo designs that may be offered on the Triplesix Studios social media pages, of the popular tattoo subject matter – the mandala. The rationale of this method is two-fold; despite Triplesix Studios custom operational system, multiple potential clients inquire within the store and ask to see ‘what designs we have’. It can be inferred that such clients are uncertain on what it is they hope to have tattooed, however still hope to obtain a tattoo. As a custom studio, books of pre-drawn designs (flash) are not kept or presented. The presentation of a pre-drawn image thus helps to encourage the indecisive client in design selection, following the typical format of advertising. 
 
In addition to assisting in design selection, the mandala design may be created in a time-efficient way. In contrast to the traditional Tibetan sand mandala, which is produced by a collective of Buddhist monks over a period of days in a ceremonial context before being wiped away to symbolise the impermanence of all things (anicca) and renunciation of attachments (Toupence, 2007, p.12), many tattooists conventionally now utilise an iPad and software known as ‘Amaziograph’ to produce mandala designs with relative ease and speed. Having such pre-set designs that are also commonly requested aids in increasing the potential of obtaining clients to tattoo, and practice tattooing as a result.
 
Amaziograph is a drawing symmetry application that is designed to “support lessons for symmetry and tessellation and help students to discover the beautiful connection between mathematics and art” (Amaziograph Official Manual, 2018, p.2). Within Triplesix Studios and many other studios operating in a similar way, the software is used to create mandala designs. Utilising the mirrored kaleidoscope option of the software, pressure can be applied to the iPad screen (generally with the apple pencil) in which a grid format is presented, and a mark is made. The number of points on the grid may be chosen, and each mark is duplicated in perfect symmetry in accordance to the users’ preferences of repetition. This allows for the creation of an image that is directly transferrable as a stencil for tattooing. 

​As a novice to producing creative works an iPad, I assumed the process would be difficult to grasp, however found it to be relatively intuitive. I was loaned an iPad from the studio founder, and produced a number of mandala designs that where set at the predetermined price of £50. A number of the designs where composed onto an a4 sheet and placed onto the studio countertop/shared on the studio social media.
 
In addition to designs being exclusively in black, I also utilised Adobe Photoshop to inform colour selection. This was performed by opening the saved jpg mandala files in Photoshop and selecting a portion of the design using the magic wand tool, before filling the selection with a variety of tonal gradients on a separate layer. For each layer of the mandala (which may be understood as each section that is linked in that it is the same mark repeated), a new Photoshop layer was created and the gradient of colours changed. Experimenting with colours on separate layers allowed for multiple versions of colour ways to be explored with ease, the layers could be duplicated and altered accordingly. This method of practice is not necessarily traditional, in that mandalas are often tattooed in black ink exclusively, and the technique employed is that which is more in keeping with my personal approach is design work in more conventional disciplines (illustration, graphics, etc.).
 
As I had expressed some scepticism in my ability to create mandala tattoos (due to having no experience in tattooing them), a desk staff member/colleague, Lesley, expressed an interest in having me utilise a space on her arm for my skill development. Lesley requested a colour pallet of brown, pink, and teal. This was attempted digitally (using the technique described above), however the outcome wasn’t deemed successful. In this instance, Lesley and I sat with a laptop and Photoshop software, exploring a variety of colour options, before committing to a pallet of teals, purples, and greens. The design was then printed and placed alongside the non-coloured image as a reference point for the colouring process. 

​The placement of the design on the arm required 2 attempts. When applying stencils, the part of the body to be tattooed must be relaxed in such a way that is natural. This is in order to ensure that the way in which the tattoo will be viewed Is in accordance to a natural posture, rather than a posture of tension. The first stencil application appeared correct when the wrist was presented as an epidermal surface to which marks can be made upon (that is, when held outwards in a way that fully exposed the area of the body to be tattooed), however the stencil appeared off centre when viewed in a natural posture. The stencil was then reapplied in accordance to how it would be viewed when the arm was down by the side of the body, thus how the tattoo would be viewed in context. This consideration may be comparative to that of an illustrator designing a book cover, with the knowledge of titles, typography, and dimensions of the book in mind – while the illustration may appear successful when viewed out of context, when placed in context the same image may not work as affectively.
 
The application of the tattoo outline followed the conventional format, of creating the outline of the tattoo initially using black ink and following the purple coloured carbon stencil to increase the likelihood of an accurate translation from source image to tattoo. Once the outline and black ink of the design was tattooed, the colour application procedure began. Unlike the outline process in which the aim was to accurately reflect the source image, the colour option sheet that was created was more of an informative aid than instructional brief. The colours on the print may not always be representative of the ink selections available to the practitioner or the level of saturation of pigment, and thus merely guide the process.
 
The role I had taken in performing each aspect of the tattoo felt like it had shifted from outline to colour. When conducting the outline, the importance was placed on craft-like conduct – that is, “… a way of doing things” that is supplemental to attaining the desired outcome (Adamson, 2007, p.6). When applying the colour, the process felt more in keeping with design training in that it required the activation of a creative capacity that wasn’t relevant to the outline process. As a requirement to fulfil the desired tattoo outcome, my role as a practitioner for this particular brief required a different skill set to tattoos created that are in keeping with the craft-like conduct alone. The finished tattoo serves as a documentation of the interplay between technology and creative practice, methods sourced from design (photoshop as an informative aid to conduct) and craft approaches to tattooing practice.

The format of the blog thus far has been mostly explanatory of the functional processes employed during my tattoo apprenticeship experience. The entries have been written in a heavily descriptive format of the steps taken in the conduct employed. This format of writing is potentially of value to the PhD research that is being undertaken, however requires a level of attention to detail that may not allow for the level of up-keep and post frequency that is desired. The explanation of the early stages of the apprenticeship are useful and informative, however are beyond the scope of inclusion to the PhD research due to the 40000-word limitation on practice-led study.
 
Since the previous post in April 2018, many advancements in the apprenticeship process have been made. The most recent blog post was an account of activity of tattooing fruit skin that was actually conducted in September/October 2017, however since that time multiple tattoos on actual skin have been carried out (72, at the time of writing in October 2018).  In order to keep the blog functioning as an up-to-date account of the apprenticeship to professional tattooist transition, and of the evolution of the research as it unfolds, an alternative approach to writing must be approached.
 
By keeping the posts created in the same time period in which what is being described and considered, a more organic and thus accurate sense of the research journey is made visible. The posts that are to follow are intended to function as a format of dissemination of developing themes of inquiry from my PhD research, that are reflections of my ongoing studio practice.
 
The purpose of the research is to utilise my embeddedness as an apprentice tattooist with a design background to elucidate on and explore the process of cultural production of contemporary Western tattooing.  The methodology of my research is shown in the below diagram – included in this post to give an indication of what the future narrative of the blog may look like.

The following text is taken from the methodology section of my most recent annual monitoring report, serving as documentation of the way in which the research is currently being conducted and shaped. During the academic year of 2018/19, the primary focus of the research is to focus on tattooing practice, in order to both improve professional skill, and to understand the process of cultural production greater, thus allowing for the implementation of design skills in professional conduct.

A contextual overview of contemporary Western tattooing is necessary in order to position the research within the field. This includes reviewing the existing literature to discover areas lacking in clarity of understanding that may be pursued. The literature review is continuing to be conducted throughout the research process. Context has also been provided through taxonomizing stylistic approaches to tattooing, categorizing the name of each style in relation to its antecedent style. This is in order to document cultural history and to provide context from a visual and design perspective to contemporary Western tattooing, that the literature review highlights to be absent.

Understanding on the process of cultural production of tattooing is lacking (Lane, 2014). This includes what tools are utilised to create marks of varying visual properties of tattoos, such as ‘liners’ or ‘magnums’, in addition to the process of client consultation, through to design formation, stencil, and actual tattoo. A disciplinary audit of the functioning of tattooing is necessary in order to provide a basis for practical investigation. Methods commonly employed by tattooists for self-promotion (such as the sharing of work on social networking websites, tattoo convention attendance, and guest-artist appearances) would also be recorded in order to document cultural history.

The contextual overview will also be informed by an autoethnographic approach due to my embeddedness within Triplesix Studios as a designer who is working as a tattooist. As stated by Méndez (2013, p.280), “autoethnography allows researchers to draw on their own experiences to understand a particular phenomenon or culture”. Observations or ‘fieldwork’ of the process of cultural production will be documented in order to discover where introducing methods known from design practice may be appropriate in tattooing practice and provide insights that have been demonstrated to be lacking in literature.

Phase 1 of the research provides understanding of context – phase 2 aims to expand on the findings to investigate tattooing as creative medium, using reflective practice and autoethnography. Reflective practice can be understood in accordance to the ideas of Schön; that the practitioner “...may reflect on the tacit norms and appreciations that underlie a judgment, or on the strategies and theories implicit in a pattern of behavior” (1984, p.3).

Tattoos created would be evaluated through the documentation of its concept through to finished article in the form of writings, photographs, and presentation of methods used to create the design (visual journaling). A dated document of each tattoo created is also being maintained for reflective purposes. This process of visual journaling addresses the gap in knowledge, while also providing a basis for tattooing as both practice, and praxis (utilising knowledge gained from phase 1).

After gaining authentic understanding of industry processes and confidence in tattooing, alternative models of practice would then be investigated in keeping with methods known as a designer. This would correspond with the processes identified for creativity by Mace and Ward (2002, p.184) who state that in order to enrich, expand, and develop a project an artist “engages in a process of idea development and extension through exploring the intricacies of that concept, building up a richness of form and content” (2002, p. 184). Implementing methods from design practice in tattooing is a means of investigating how contemporary Western tattooing may be enriched.

In order to disseminate findings, multiple conference attendances will be made as the research unfolds, presenting emergent themes appropriate to the topic of the conference. An audio discussion of findings may also be published using the medium of podcasting – an emergent platform that (much like tattooing) engages a vast audience demographic, both socially and geographically. An online blog that has been started prior to the research will be carried out parallel to the research, and publications in both academic and tattoo-specialist outlets (such as ‘Total Tattoo’ or ‘Skin Deep’ magazine) will be sought. In addition to a thesis, a non-academic book that documents the research process will be created, with a non-specialist publisher being pursued.
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This is in acknowledgement of the popularity of the research topic in contemporary Western culture, but also an effort to create a format that places tattooing within the more appropriate category of art and design publications, as opposed to specialist interest. Utilising such methods and disseminating the findings in such a way contributes to the presentation of notion as tattoo’s as a medium, providing a strong basis for the enrichment to both understanding and practice that the research aims to deliver.
While PhD theses exist that utilise practice within the methodology in creative disciplines such as glass (Song, 2014), illustration (Hoogslag, 2015), or calligraphy (Ling, 2008), contemporary Western tattooing is yet to be examined by such means. The research will implement practice as a method in a way that is comparable to existing practice-based methodologies such as those listed. 

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​I had been told on numerous occasions that my apprenticeship was soon to accelerate by the studio founder, Bez. This was clarified the day that he ordered fake skin in for me to practice tattooing on.
 
Around this time, I was generously gifted an Ego tattoo machine from an artist at the Studio, Pete. Ego is the brand of tattoo machines created by Bez which are created ergonomically with different iterations to match the variety of styles of working for tattooists. The machine given to me at this point was one of the original Ego machines, which many of the artists working in the studio had never seen before. The knowledge of the machines rarity enriched it with a level of significance that made my possession of it seem particularly important to me.
 
To set up for tattooing of the fake skin, I was asked to take out one of the stencil exercises that I had produced previously and use it as a transfer. Bez selected a design by the artist Dan Hartley, which was a small devil holding a large capital letter ‘G’. The design was comically tacky, which added a level of light-heartedness to the exercise that seemed to reduce my anxiety to some extent.
 
To create a stencil normally, the design would normally be photocopied and placed in a treble layered sheet of transparent paper, carbon paper, and a yellow-toned paper that the design is placed on face-up. The three sheets with the design inside are then placed in a plastic wallet which is put through a thermal image transfer machine. The machine can be run at a variety of speeds, with the faster speeds producing the weakest stencil (more suited to smaller, delicate designs) and the slower speeds producing the strongest stencil (most suited to more bold and graphic designs).
 
Once the stencil has been put through the machine the trio of sheets is removed, and the top layer of translucent paper has an imprint of the design that was placed onto the bottom sheet. For this stencilling technique, the image was drawn manually however, as the exercise was already completed of creating a carbon copy. The procedure for hand stencilling is similar, however the design is simply placed onto the carbon paper and traced (firmly) with a ballpoint (or other hard nib) pen, with the reverse of the design then holding a carbon copy which can be applied to the skin, leaving a purple stencil as a map for the tattoo.
 
The fake skin is particularly thin and beige in colour, and can be compared to ‘Bernard Matthews wafer thin turkey ham’. Before applying a stencil, the skin had to be placed onto an object to hold it. Another artist in the studio was once sent a prosthetic arm to tattoo a design on (known as a ‘pound of flesh’), so the fake skin was wrapped around the fake arm, and taped with duct tape. The texture of the skin was repellent to any adhesive of the tape, so it proved difficult to secure the skin onto the arm.
 
Once the fake skin was on the arm, a small amount of stencil fluid was applied until tacky. The stencil fluid tends to be white in the bottle but transparent once applied to the skin, and acts as a means to hold the carbon copy onto the skin. The design was then applied, to the fake skin slowly, and peeled away from the corner to avoid any ‘smudging’. Once successfully applied, the design then had to be left for a few minutes to dry before any tattooing could begin. This was in order to avoid any smudging while tattooing. I was told at this point that this would generally be the point when the tattooist would go outside for a cigarette (though in my case, I just waited as I don’t smoke).
 
Despite there being no potential for any health hazards with the tattoo being applied to fake skin, I set up the booth as I would for a client. The bed and trolley where wrapped with cling film, and the machine and cable where bagged and protected accordingly. Ink caps filled with black ink where placed onto the cling film covering the trolley, which was adhered by petroleum jelly. The fake arm holding the skin was placed on the cling film protected bed, and the machine was switched on.
 
The first thing I noticed when holding the machine was the unfamiliar vibrating sensation, coupled with the unusually shaped instrument in my hand. There are two types of tattoo machines; the traditional coil machine, which is a heavy and loud, or the contemporary rotary machine, which is much lighter in weight and quieter in sound. While many tattooists have now opted for rotary machines, some more traditional artists have continued with coil machines, which seems to be down to personal preference. The Ego machine that I was holding was a rotary machine, which had a tube attached which had an attachment for a variety of needle cartridges. The piece I was to attempt was a thick-lined, traditional piece, and so the machine was set with a ‘9-liner’ (9 small needles grouped together).
 
With the supportive presence of a number of tattooists surrounding me, I attempted my first line into the design on the skin. The ink that was applied to the machine dispersed rapidly, obscuring the area I was tattooing, making it particularly difficult to see what I had tattooed. I was told this is something you get used to and intuitively understand in time. The fell of the vibrating weighted machine in my hand was so foreign that getting over the discomfort of that was a task alone, with utilising it to make marks with precision being a separately difficult task. The texture of the fake skin caused much of the stencil to disappear I was tattooing it.
 
As I tattooed, I was advised by Pete how to hold the machine so that I had one finger guiding the needle as it traced over the skin, allowing for a consistent depth. I was also advised to attempt to hold the machine upright to ensure a consistent line weight, and how to create a line that appears connected but may have been completed in multiple passes. This was done by continuing to line once the hand had been taken away from the skin in a position before the previous line had ended. I noticed the inaccuracies in the design, and so spent some time on the areas of skin around the stencil practicing line work. I was informed prior to the exercise that its purpose was merely in obtaining experience in holding the machine, and not in creating a visually pleasing tattoo. Having experimented with the line work, I realised how challenging it was to create a clean appearing tattoo and how many factors where to be considered to do it right. Unlike drawing and illustration, the canvas is human skin with totally different properties to paper, meaning stencils may disappear through wiping, the skin may get over-walked, and the canvas may move from the pain they are being inflicted. This exercise taught me how to both get used to holding a machine, as well as how to understand the logic of those responsible for bad tattoos.
 
The images included are of my first 2 attempts on fake skin – the first of which has been described above (and is likely visually apparent). The area around the imagery that is of a lighter colour is the part of the fake skin that has been covered by tape, with the darker areas being the parts where ink has been wiped off from the tattooed line and resulted in staining. The second sheet of skin was mainly as a means of the consideration of lines and gaining comfort with the machine again, and included motifs and images drawn by Bez for the purpose of the task (in addition to one of the flash designs for Friday the 13th created by the artist Stacey Green).
 
The fake skin practice is integral in the gaining of tacit knowledge that simply couldn’t be learned without empirical understanding. I am writing retrospectively and have since tattooed 3 more pieces of fake skin with increasing success – the pieces shown are artefacts of my very early stages of incompetence that I am now in the process of attempting to better. Tattooing practice is integral to the discipline and the reason it functions as a commercial art form, however there is so much more to the process than the act of doing. My time up until holding a machine has been focussed on gaining the necessary understanding of studio functioning that is a key part of the job. The use of a machine discussed here is the seminal moment of the next iteration of my career progression. 

​There are distinct differences in drawings that are created to exist only on paper, and those intended to work as a tattoo. My next steps of the apprenticeship clarified this difference, isolating the rationale behind them, while also giving me an opportunity to get used to drawing subject matter that is outside of my common illustration vernacular.
 
Perhaps the most common motif within pictorial tattooing is the skull, as a brief google search of the term ‘traditional tattoo’ will reveal. Skulls have been typical subject matter since the advent of western traditional tattooing, and can be seen in the portfolios of the majority of tattoo artists internationally. There are a multitude of speculations that could offer insight into the reasoning for the commonality of the presence of the skull, ranging from the symbolism it may present in acknowledgment and acceptance of mortality, links to ‘hyper-masculinity’, or an instinctive admiration of natural form. The skull is present in all taxonomies of tattooing from all cultures, (with the exception of pattern-orientated tribal).
 
Roses are perhaps the second most common tattoo motif in tattoo culture (particularly western tattooing), and are not uncommon to find in combination with a skull. Similarly, speculations for the popularity may be that they could symbolise life and vitality, and an aesthetically pleasing form of nature that adhere to a universally accepted, almost objective idea of beauty. The combination of the rose and the skull may be understood as reference to the fundamental truth that death is a consequence of life, and marking such an acknowledgment on the body may be an attempt to overcome the fear of this reality.
 
Irrespective of whatever the origins of such motifs popularity, their presence in the tattoo vernacular is apparent to anybody who has entered a tattoo studio. Given the gravitas assigned to such subject matter within the community, my next apprentice task was drawing tasks involving such forms.
 
I was first asked to draw a rose without any reference, so the artists at the studio would be able to understand the visual reference bank of my mind. They soon recognised that It was somewhat sparse, and opted to give me lesson in drawing ‘traditional tattoo’ roses, which are generally made up of 1 central oval (the bud) with five circles surrounding it (the petals). I initially struggled, but was advised by one of my many mentors, Dan Hartley, to keep my images inside an all-encompassing circle. This was in order to keep the shapes from going too far out of the border of the image, which would be a directly relevant skill for when it comes to tattooing at a designated size on a persons body.


I experimented for some time over a series of my days as an apprentice, until I moved on to rose drawings using reference from photographs, more in keeping with ‘neo-traditional’ or realism. I found that this way of working suited my natural way of processing external visual material into drawings, and the stylization of the rose wasn’t as dramatic and reductive as the traditional approach. Part of the difference between ‘drawing for tattoos’ and regular drawing is that lines needs to be more separated when being applied to tattoos, as over time they spread as the skin ages, which results in a loss of clarity of the design. This exercise was partly to understand those differences and apply them through drawings.
 
A similar approach was taken with imagery of skulls, however I was able to use reference from the beginning given the precision of anatomy that would be integral to the image looking correct. In order to attempt to create something that served both my interest and fulfil the purpose of the exercise, I opted to draw animal skulls, which although generic, has some slightly more interesting shapes than a human shape to consider. With the skulls, I began sketching in a way that is more in keeping with my illustrative style, as I recognised from completing the rose drawings that I was stronger when drawing in keeping with reference, and then reducing the elements down into more basic shapes that are more in keeping with the traditional tattoo aesthetic.
 
I continued exploring skulls, which where created by breaking down the reference imagery into shapes (primarily circles) which I then sketched onto the paper I was drawing onto, before picking out the central elements that I could convey. This process was completed with a mechanical pencil that was held towards the end of the instrument, to allow a more loose and free sketch, before bringing the grip closer to the end of the pencil in order to define the sketched area with a greater sense of control, once lines drawn from the sketches seemed appropriate to commit to.
 
Following from these observational exercises, I also attempted to combine a few of the studies into a singular image (roses, skulls, scrolls), with varying levels of success due to the shapes present and angles which the elements where drawn from. I additionally attempted to simplify the observational drawings by going over the sketches with tracing paper (a process very common in the creation of tattoo stencil creation post-sketch), picking out the integral elements of the image. This exercise was useful in getting out of my traditional methods used to create an illustration, while also practising how to draw with pace and efficiency in a format that would suit (or could be made to suit) multiple tattoo taxonomies.
 
Though the images shown are merely sketches, they also serve as documentation of cognitive process in interpreting information and trying to force it into adhering into a specific style (with little real success), before creating methods that organically allowed my approach to become more open, and thus acquire a greater diversity of skills. This exercise was just training in broadening my illustrative approach, and discovering methods of working that would suit potential client requests while also utilising my abilities in a way which would allow their natural expansion.