Participation in ‘Doing arts-based research’ workshop with Kitrina Douglas.
M-Shed, Bristol. 22/7.
 
Prior to the conference commencing, multiple workshops where held on varying themes that involved autoethnography. My research adopts a multi-method methodological approach combining autoethnography and practice, and so from the available selection, ‘doing arts-based research’ was deemed the most relevant. The personal aim of attendance was to gain some first-hand insights into how practice and autoethnography may relate, from those who utilise it as their established methodological approach.
 
Kitrina Douglas lead the session, and introduced aspects of her autoethnography work that utilised creative practice (such as music, poetry, and film-making) while working with marginalised groups dealing with taboo topics. Douglas shared a piece of performative autoethnography in the form of a song that she had written when working with marginalised ladies in Cornwall on a 4 day retreat. The song contained lyrics that told the story of one of the ladies’ repression, but also that where her own personal narrative that reflected the sentiments of the lady who she was working with. Douglass explained how the knowledge that was gained was not merely retold in the form of words in such a way that may be deemed exploitative of their biographical narratives, but shared in vulnerability by relating to the narrative personally. As a result, the research output in the form of song was deemed more accessible to non-academic audiences, and able to communicate in such a way that was beyond words alone.
 
The workshop also involved a 2-stage task. Kitrina began the task by whispering a word into the ear of a participant, who was then asked to go into the centre of the room and communicate the word using an absence of the spoken word and through the body and gesture alone. This was then guessed by other participants. The process was followed so that each member of the group was able to perform their given word. On completion, Kitrina asked each of us to write down responses to 3 questions;

1/ How did you feel when given your word?
2/ How did you feel after performing your word?
3/ How did you feel when watching others perform their word.
 
Kitrina then read out our responses in such a way that was anonymous, highlighting the commonalties in our experiences, but uniqueness in our words. Kitrina also utilised the task to serve as an example of how we communicate through much more than words alone, highlighting the use of arts-based outputs when dealing with autoethnographic material.
 
I feel that as a result of attending the workshop, my understanding of what autoethnography is, how it can be utilised and expressed, and the validity of its employment as a research methodology has been enriched. While my PhD research takes the form of a more traditional autoethnographic approach, my understanding of its versatility of application and multitude of form has given me confidence in claiming that I am utilising a form of autoethnography which I now understand cannot be pinned down to a singular approach. 


Attendance of presentations of other researchers / practitioners utilising autoethnographic methodological approaches, and presentation of research. 22 & 23/7.
 
Both the Monday and Tuesday of the conference featured presentations from autoethnographers from a variety of disciplines. The session on Monday the 22nd featured more established autoethnographers such as Ken Gale and David Carless. The work they presented took the form of traditional paper readings, conventionally formatted conference presentations, as well as musical and narrative performances. When the content was presented, the utilisation of the body in its various forms of expression assisted in the communication of the ideas, echoing the sentiments of the workshop held earlier in the day by Kitrina Douglas.
 
An example of this included the presentation titled ‘Trickster Tales’ by Lapin Ammattikorkeakoulu, who presented her autoethnography based on a tradition of call and response that is native to her African origins, and required the audience to recount a story (including actions) to the person who was situated next to them. Lapin then spoke on oral history and storytelling, using her personal narrative and embodied expression to communicate her messages. Other presentations included the themes of parenting in its various forms, and consisted of narrativised anecdotes that speak of the challenges when dealing with topics of toilet training, technology, and discussions on difficult topics such as religion when talking to children. The anecdotes where unique to the researchers, but generalisable in so much as the experiences have common equivalents that can be drawn.
 
I was given the opportunity to present my own research on Tuesday the 23rd, to a receptive audience of around 30 people. As I presented, I became aware that my presentation style was more fluent than it has been in the past due to social anxiety. Despite this still being something difficult to contend with, I recognised that my knowledge of the content that I was delivering allowed me to bypass my emotional responses to public speaking and communicate effectively. As I was speaking, I was made aware of audience engagement with the content through eye-gaze and laughter (where humour was intended). When reading an excerpt of my autoethnographic writing, I also heard an audience member state, ‘Yes! That’s it!’, which assisted in alleviating insecurities surrounding uncertainty as to if I was performing autoethnography ‘properly’. Due to time constraints that where the result of technological issues, no question session was able to be held, however multiple meaningful and mutually encouraging conversations with other presenters ensued throughout the day.
 
As the day continued, I attentively watched other presenters share their work on themes such as working as a counsellor dealing with themes of political contrast between therapist and patient (Travis Heath), working with colleagues with challenging attitudes while caring for patients with dementia (Gary Hodge), and dealing with the harmful institutional pressures and expectations when working within academia (Karen Lumsden). While watching the presentations, I recorded observations and notes on realisations that I was gaining on what autoethnography really is, and how it is valuable when dealing with topics that are difficult to communicate and document in more traditional methodological approaches.
 
The notes included comments such as;
 
‘Autoethnography acknowledges that research is conducted by a human, and doesn’t separate research from the researcher’
 
‘Autoethnography brings the somatic experience to the subject that is being researched, representing a topic with authenticity and recognition of nuance’.

‘Autoethnography is what Jack Kerouac does’

‘Autoethnography is a methodological approach that recognises the notion that we are spiritual beings having a human experience’
 
Though these notes where for my own understanding, they have been included in this report in the spirit of autoethnographic inquiry, as they are records of ideas / thoughts / questions that have been triggered by participating in the conference. In a similar fashion, diagrammatic forms where sketched based on personal interpretation of other presenters’ ways of utilising autoethnography, and how it is appropriate and valid to my own research. These included a visual response Fiona Murrays account of a spin class, that interweaved theory with both chronological narrative and internal workings, in recognition of the experience of participation in such an event. The notes made where not related to the presentation content alone, but what can be learned indirectly from having been present for the presentation. 

Summary
 
Attendance at the sixth British conference of autoethnography allowed me to have opportunity to engage with other practitioners using autoethnography to uncover information that is under represented. In addition, I was able to present my research to a knowledgeable audience and gain feedback, learn of the research of others that may be drawn upon to enhance my own understanding, and introduce my research to a network of (hopefully) potential future colleagues. As a result of my attendance, I feel that I am more confident in both presenting research and in my use of autoethnography, and engaged with my methodological approach as much as I am the subject of my research. I am very grateful to Northumbria-Sunderland CDT directors and AHRC for allowing me the opportunity to have participated in what I deem the most valuable conference I have attended to date. 

​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.