The Magnet of Tattooing

There’s something about tattooing that you feel early on- from the first kiss of the needle to your skin and the thrill of having an image marked on your body. It’s magnetism latches onto you and pulls you in deeper- it’s the same reason you come back for another one.

A lot of it is chemical- your body floods you with adrenaline, cortisol and endorphins. You feel that rush of happy hormones at the end of every tattoo when you admire your work of art in the mirror, but you also feel it after you hit a hard spot in your tattoo, or during a long session you may feel a second wind come on.

Tattoo artists feel the pull the deepest. There’s a thrill in taking a needle to skin the first time, even more so when your controlled and steady hand executes a design perfectly. I always refer back to Grey’s Anatomy to describe this feeling- the rush of the cut. There are days when I feel horrible; cranky and anxious are revolving emotions. But when I draw that first line into skin- I’m okay again. The zen washes over me as I sink into the flow of the process.

The combination of the thrill of cutting skin, and the satisfaction in tracing a stencil permanently on someone else’s body rushes into your veins. There’s an energy transfer that happens here- the gentle relaxation of both client and artist into the rhythm of the tattoo. The buzz of the needle lulling us into a trance.

I’m confident that this same magnetism if what draws people to the tattoo industry as professionals. Piercers especially. It’s hard to meet a tattoo artist who’s isn’t an adrenaline junkie- someone who rides a motorcycle to work, or travels from place to place unable to sit still. I think that’s why so many alcoholic and drug abusers are draw to this industry as well. The thrill of control when holding a machine and drawing on skin binds us all together into the same fabric.

Tattooing has brought me so many relationships and experiences- some great and not so great. The sadness I feel when someone leaves my shop claws at me. There’s been many times where I would bond with someone and really like them as a person, but then they took advantage of my trust. There’s been times when there was nothing I could say to make them stay, and there’s been times I said everything to make them go.

Four artists have come and gone at my tattoo shop in four years, and this is the first time that someone is leaving on a genuinely positive note. There were no disagreements, there was no pettiness, and for that I should be happy but I’m rather sad that she’s moving on. Even though my opportunity to move studios didn’t pan out, I was able to actually find a better location for my friend and coworker to work at. I arranged it for her to help out while she was in the midst of exam season. So I’m proud of how far she’s come, but I’m also beyond sad that I’m not moving onto a new shop myself. Instead, I’m watching her go.

Now, I’m on the next chapter of my business. An awkward “what’s next?” phase after nearly abandoning it less than a month ago, in pursuit of another opportunity. I can only hope that the next person to join me is someone who’s a good fit for the shop and the clients, even if they’re only around for awhile.

But I hope the next one sticks. I hope the next one is committed to just being a good person and a good tattooer, because even though I really need someone to stick around, I think my clients do too. I think Saint John aches for a compassionate tattoo shop and good tattooers that understand the trauma that’s held in this city. I see it and feel it everywhere- from the homeless camped out in my apartment foyer, to the young adults struggling with their mental health and joblessness. Not to forget the single mom’s who need a break, or the family that cant afford their increasing rent. You might think these things have nothing to do with tattooing but our socioeconomic demons show their ugly heads to me daily. Through the people that I tattoo and who thank me for the little bit of release I gave them. To the ones who can only afford something small for themselves, or who take on the extra shifts just so they can get tattooed.

I hope the next artist I welcome see’s those things like I do. I hope they weigh on their hands like they do on mine. The responsibility of tattooing well- tattooing something beautiful- because the client deserves it. Doing something because someone paid for it isn’t enough- I’ve worked with people who couldn’t care less as long as they had the cash in hand. But the ones who are kind, and listen and tattoo exquisitely just because the client needs it are so rare.

To all the artists who have come and gone- thank you for your lessons and your presence. I’ve learned more from you all than you think.