In February 2019, I was fortunate enough to have been generously granted funding from the Northern Bridge Research Training Support Grant, which allowed me to present my research is Los Angeles (Northern Bridge, 2019). During my trip I spent time with the illustrious professor Stanley Krippner, formerly of Saybrooke University, who upon learning about my tattooing practice and resonance with east Asian arts, connected me with his friend and past colleague, Bruce Carpenter.
 
Bruce is an art historian who specialises in South-East Asian arts, geographically situated in Sanur, Bali, where he is the founder of the organisation, ‘Island Arts’. He has published extensively on Asian arts and many of his books such as ‘Indonesian Tribal Art’ (2016) and ‘Lempad of Bali: The illuminating line’ (2014). After learning of my interest in Asian visuals and desire to better understand the cultural context of the imagery from which I utilise in my tattooing practice, Bruce invited me to visit Island Arts to have access to his extensive personal collections of artefacts and library, and to offer me expertise and insight to my various questions surrounding my adoption of visuals from spiritually imbued Asian arts in Western creative industries. In order to make the trip, RTSG funding was applied for a second time from Northern Bridge, who very kindly made the trip possible in January 2020.
 
After arriving in Sanur in the late afternoon following over 20 hours of travel from the UK, I received a message from Bruce inviting me for breakfast with his family and colleagues the next morning. It was with this spirit of hospitality that the 3-week trip commenced. Bruce spent the first day introducing me to the area, discussing my intent for the trip to enable him to advise accordingly based on my interests, and giving me a tour of his facilities which I was granted access to irrespective of his availability. This included specialist books that are difficult to source in the UK, such as exhibition catalogues for museums such as ARMA (2018) and NEKA (2020); both of which feature traditional Balinese painting from the ‘Kamasan’ region, from which my design practice draws upon. 

After this introduction and direction given to the most appropriate places to visit, I was granted access to all facilities at Island Arts, which were fully exploited through the photography of the various artefacts with Bruce giving me first-hand explanations of the imagery context, and the use of numerous texts. These where created over the duration of the trip, and included Picard (1998) (which is difficult to source and very expensive to buy); Lueras (2003); Lueras and Lloyd, (1987), and Tenzer, (1992). These texts, alongside discussion with Bruce, provided contextual understanding to accompany the work that has been / will continue to be produced for tattooing. Trips to the AMRA, NEKA, and Museum Puri Lukisan in the Ubud area where also made and many of the works photographed. These where then able to be more richly understood through direct discussion surrounding individual pieces with Bruce.
 
In addition to the rich resources that where made available, I also was able to initiate a 30-minute presentation of my work followed by a 20-minute Q and A, at the beautiful, ‘Rumah Sanur Creative Hub’ as part of the LOTS programme (Learn Of Things and Sharing) on Saturday 18/01/2020. The audience where mixed nationality, with around 50% being local residents of Bali, and the remaining either expats or those travelling. In addition to gaining insight on how to effectively communicate my research (with a strong North-East accent) to an audience who don’t speak English as a first language, I was also able to discuss my findings with audience members who ranged from social media managers specialising in tattooing, to anthropology professors, to PhD students utilising ethnographic fieldwork. The range of discussion both during the Q and A and after the event where insightful in gaining a sense of how Indonesian residents respond to imagery from their culture being adopted in Western tattooing practices (in my experience, generally very enthusiastically!) and in how academics and research students from non-design/art fields responded to my findings. I gave the event organiser and venue founder Rudolf Dethu (rudolfdethu.com, 2019), a print of my artwork as an expression of my gratitude, and it is intended to connect further in future visits to Asia. I was also able to spend time with local Indonesian artists from various disciplines (from music – architecture) who attended my talk, which thoroughly enriched the experience.
 
After arriving back in the UK, it is intended to create an informal book that will act as a tattoo design catalogue based on the imagery and culture that I have experienced and worked with over the past 3 weeks. The imagery will be accompanied by text that accessibly communicates the context of the subject matter, based on what was revealed from Carpenter directly, the books consulted, and conversations with the local residents. The purpose of book is to inform those who are opting to adorn imagery that has roots in a spiritual culture of what the subject matter may represent in its original source, in an effort to move away from mere ‘cultural appropriation’ into ‘cultural appreciation’ (Han, 2019). The illustrations where started while on the research trip, and will be continued to be produced over the coming months. Carpenter has kindly suggested to proof-read the document, and advise on any areas that require clarification. In return for such generosity, I have agreed to produce a book cover for an upcoming publication he is in the process of writing titled ‘In Red Weather’.
 
The trip has not only allowed for content that may be used directly within my thesis, but assisted in my confidence in communicating my findings to an international audience, and an opportunity to make a host of valuable contacts on both a professional and personal level. I am sincerely grateful to all those who have made the trip possible, and consider it to be a significant part of my growth as a researcher and individual.
 

Bibliography
 
ARMA (2018) About ARMA – Arma Museum & Resort. Available at: http://www.armabali.com/about-arma/ (Accessed: 4 November 2019).

Carpenter, B. W. (2016) Indonesian Tribal Art. 01 edition. Singapore: Editions Didier Millet.

Han, H.-C. (Sandrine) (2019) ‘Moving From Cultural Appropriation to Cultural Appreciation’, Art Education, 72(2), pp. 8–13. doi: 10.1080/00043125.2019.1559575.

Lempad, I. G. N., Carpenter, B. W., Lukisan, M. P., Darling, J., Hinzler, H., McGowan, K., Vickers, A. and Widago, S. (2014) Lempad of Bali: The Illuminating Line. Éditions Didier Millet.

Lueras, L. (2003) Bali Eye on Indonesia - The Indonesian Humanitarian Foundation. The Indonesian Humanitarian Foundation.

Lueras, L. and Lloyd, R. I. (1987) Bali: The Ultimate Island. Reprint edition. New York: St Martins Pr.

NEKA (2020) Neka Art Museum Ubud Bali - The Development of Painting in Bali - Art Painting Museum. Available at: http://www.museumneka.com/Collection.asp?Category=Transitional%20Style%20Painting (Accessed: 27 January 2020).

Northern Bridge (2019) Northern Bridge Consortium - Newcastle University. Available at: http://www.northernbridge.ac.uk/newsevents/adammcdadeuniversityofsunderland.html (Accessed: 7 October 2019).

Picard, M. (1998) Bali: Cultural Tourism and Touristic Culture. Archipelago Press, Singapore.

rudolfdethu.com (no date) Roars. Rants. Raves. Rambles. Rebel. Rock-N-Roll, RUDOLF DETHU. Available at: https://www.rudolfdethu.com/ (Accessed: 27 January 2020).
​
Tenzer, M. (1992) Balinese Music. Berkeley : Seattle, Wash., U.S.A: Periplus Editions.

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. 

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.