Randy: Today, I'd like to tell you about a wonderful acquaintance we've made here who happens to be based out of a great place to go for art supplies of just about any kind, especially drawing and painting. It's a family-owned and operated shop in the Chinatown area of Kuala Lumpur, run by Mr Yap and his family, all of whom have intimate knowledge and information regarding the supplies they sell. We look forward to every visit to Venus Art, because when we go there, we will not be treated like a wallet with legs, but as friends.
Personally, I have been to a good number of art stores here in KL, almost all of which are corporate franchises with employees who are there solely for the paycheck, and have neither an interest in what they sell, nor in doing anything more than what they are forced to do to keep their jobs. The most commonly heard response from the staff at these establishments is "I don't know". (EK: Once in a while, we'll come across a staff member with more initiative who would help out a little more, but these occurrences tend to be few and far in between) Before we discovered Venus Art, we ventured into one of these establishments looking for some simple drawing supplies, and spent well over an hour walking up and down aisle after aisle of current trend products trying to find a handful of items which none of the sales staff could help point us toward.
After several attempts to get the attention of the employees, and asking questions, describing the items we were looking for, we asked to see the manager; "I don't know" had gotten a bit old. To my surprise, even the manager was unable to direct us to most of these common items, and although she was very polite in her reiteration of "I don't know", we left the shop without many of the things we went for in the first place. As we walked out, we both agreed we felt a distinct sense that we had wasted more time than what we got from the visit was worth.
Then, we discovered Venus Art, and life improved in a matter of minutes. The service was amazing, Mr Yap and his daughter both had knowledge of everything we asked for, including uncommon items that're usually special-order only, even in the US. During the conversation, I forgot I was in a store owned by a stranger. The whole visit was much more like going to see an artist friend and borrowing some supplies from them. The stock was much more artist-oriented than any of the other stores we'd visited, and much less of the trendy-cool-in-fashion stuff that's advertised as being able to turn anyone into Picasso himself.
We piled items into our little basket with the excitement of two kids on Christmas morning, and before I knew it, we had twice as much as we'd gone to get in the first place. As I got to the register, Mr Yap's daughter began to total us up. It was then that I realized how much we had put into the basket, and I prepared myself for a four-digit total, assuming that the prices would be akin to what was being charged in the franchise stores, only higher given the much better quality of the products.
At that point, I noticed that there were several drawings pasted on the wall behind her. One particularly striking piece was a sketch of the Eiffel Tower. The simplicity of the design suggested it was a child's drawing, and as I looked at it, I felt the mental shift that defines masterpiece works, where one loses their own perceptions and is transported behind the eyes of the artist, seeing what they saw as they created it.
Whoever had sketched the piece wasn't bound by the rules of perfection and accuracy, and had firmly translated perception that even included mood onto the surface of the paper.
I asked about the drawing, and was told the owner's granddaughter had done it a few years before, when she was about eight years of age. The very same girl now stared up at me from a chair behind the counter where she was drawing, smiling broadly at my compliments on her sketch. She told me that she had done it "a long time ago", but made no attempt whatsoever to explain any of the "imperfections" that most adult artists, including myself, seem to find in anything they do. She was happy and satisfied with her work in a way all too uncommon in older artists; and rightly so.
And then the total came, to my shock, to much less than what I had expected it would be. Top quality supplies, great service, friendly conversation with fellow artists, and now this: it was like a dream from which I'd hate waking from. I had found my art supplier, made new friends, and found a shop I could recommend to just about anyone. I have since sent many people there, and every one of them returns with a similar feeling to mine the day I first walked into their shop.
Professionally and personally, we both recommend checking them out -- it's an experience you won't regret. Venus Art is at no 90, Jalan Petaling, 50000 Kuala Lumpur. Tel: 03-2072 8807.
Venus Art is closed on Sunday.
And while you're there, remember to tell the Yaps hi from Randy and Ee Koon!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
A Fish has Swallowed the Tasmanian Devil
EK:
We've been building a bank of stories and blogs to post, though the shop keeps our hands and brains at work enough that we delegate a day to publish the blog. Last week, we had our hands full between inking, piercing, entertaining and doing consults, so this one comes a little late. Well, better late than never.
Andy came to us about a month ago, to ask us to cover up an old piece he had. We bumped into him by chance as he happened to be looking for us, at the Western restaurant, Wild Basil, almost directly opposite the entrance to the shop, and it was pretty evident from the start that he was a lot like the shop regulars we had back in the States -- he's laidback, he likes a laugh or two, and he brings his own music to share. Hey, new music to listen to is a bonus, right?
(As an aside, we welcome almost any music any friends or clients might bring, so long as it is not preachy, or brain-numbinglyrepetitious or brain-numbing per se ... and yes, we have a definite lean towards the genre of rock)
He's spent some time in Glasgow (which I suppose makes him part Glaswegian), and joined the Scottish Navy for a while. A sense of patriotic duty led to this tat, which has been on him for over 10 years: Yup, it's Taz bearing the Scottish flag and a banner telling where he's from. Personally, I thought it was pretty cute. Come on, who doesn't like the Tazzer?
We kicked around some ideas as to what to cover it up with, and he ended up asking to have two different drawings done, from which he would choose. Now I have said it time and again that the best coverups are always custom drawn to fit the wearer. You just can't find a piece of flash and plonk it on top of an old tat. Well, you can, it's just not always as effective. So it was a custom coverup all the way.
The first I drew was of a koi (his first choice) curling to leap upwards -- traditionally, of course, the koi jumping upwards turns into a dragon once it enters the heavenly skies. Maybe that is why the Cantonese call it "kum loong yee" (erm, golden dragon fish? I'm not sure) A symbol of great growth, prosperity and good luck. And a thistle in the background, as it's Scotland's national flower.
Initially, he worried whether it would be fitting to have a thistle with a koi or not, and my answer was, well, if it fits you, why worry about what anyone else would say? When it comes to tats, it's almost always about the person who wears it, and never the society aorund the person.
The second version was an old school sailing ship, but Andy said he'd never live it down with his friends so we KO'ed that option. The line drawing is still with me.
Halfway through, he emailed me asking to insert the words "The World Is Yours" which are found on the banner of a sculpture. Which happened to be a prop in that Al Pacino classic, Scarface. I really couldn't think of anything more befitting the piece, so we proceeded by picking a Gothic-style treatment to the words and pumped it into an illustrative style banner.
We also opted for black and grey (he's not real big on loads of color) with the thistle coloured in, and some 'backlight' in the scales to further obscure the blue.
These pics show a little bit of the process:
Say hi to Taz! Isn't he a cutie!
Say goodbye to Taz. And the coverup's done, after the second session. Greyscale done. The white highlights are not so evident at this point. Mainly because it was late evening when the pic was taken and his skin was still pretty red. And we've never Photoshopped a pic in our lives :)
All in all, we had a good time having Andy around. Oh, and speaking of bringing music, he introduced us to bands like Kasabian and I had my first listen of Arctic Monkeys. I know, I know, it sounds like I've been living under a rock not to have heard the Monkeys, but yanno, half the time I am humming Zeppelin in my head, and they're kinda sorta like almost musical grandfathers to the Arctic Monkeys...sort of. hehe.
Next time, I'll tell you about meeting a new client (who I'm lucky to now also call a friend) who could have/most probably indeed have crossed paths with me before in the past, not only once, but twice. But that's another story for another time.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Observations on Then and Now
Randy: Take heart, my tattooed friends; even here in Malaysia, life for the tattooed is getting easier by the day. Let me tell you a little story about my visit here just over three and a half years ago, and you'll understand what I am saying. Tattoos are getting more mainstream, and no longer do tattoos mark you as a thug or social outcast.
My first night here, right off of the plane, we stopped for food at a roadside hawker stand. My wife had told me that I'd better cover up my tattooed arms to avoid problems at the customs counter, and I was wearing a cotton hoody. I was sweating like the proverbial pig in the 27C heat even at three am in July. No one nearby appeared to be tatted, but I was clear of customs, so I removed the hoody, exposing my ink.
It was as if permission had somehow been given to those that sat at the tables around us. First, a young lady at the table just to the right of ours took off her overshirt, and exposed a small tribal phoenix on her back, just below her neck. Then a gent to the left of us pulled off his light jacket and exposed some work he had on his forearm. Before we knew it, about a third of the people nearby were suddenly showing ink that they'd kept hidden until I showed mine.
The following day, we tried to hail a cab, and car after car rolled by us, some slowing as if to stop, then speeding away as the drivers saw my flame-ridden arms. In order to get a cab, we had to have a plan and basically ambush one. I would stand away from my wife while she hailed one, pretending we were not together. After the cab stopped and she's already gotten the ok from the driver for our destination, I would run over and hop in. Twice in the ten days I was here, the driver asked us to exit tha cab after seeing my ink.
Now, just a few years later, cabs stop for us, apparently without any reservations whatsoever. The largest English newspaper here, The Star, writes a Metro Feature Article about our shop, and one of their reporters, Priya Menon, gets her first taste of ink for the article so she can share details about the experience firsthand. And I don't have to be the first at a local restaurant to expose my ink, as typically, when I arrive at one, I am already checking out the tattoos being sported by many of the patrons, which are readily and proudly displayed.
Shows like Miami Ink, LA Ink, Tattoo Highway, and London Ink have helped greatly to alert the rest of the world that there are inked people from every walk of life, as have magazines and other media sources. But there is also another source for spreading the word that we often overlook, and that I believe is the singlemost instrumental; everyday tattooed people showing their ink in public without fear of judgment or rejection.
The time has come when Malaysia has escaped the dark ages and the dark thinking about those wearing ink. Let us celebrate the growth of an entire nation with respect to the art we love so much. Wear sleeveless shirts, spaghetti-strap tops, and those sandals that reveal the beautiful, artistic, flowered bands on delicate ankles. Let the world around you see that tattoos are not only art, but art in such pure form that we celebrate it with permanent marks on our very bodies.
EK:
"Don't tell your family this, but the reason so-and-so always wears a t-shirt is because he has got these huge tattoos, and they really are pretty ugly," someone in my extended family whispered to me in my college days.
It really seemed that having ink was more of a mark of scandalousness, and a public symbol of notoriety. Mind you, that was almost 20 years ago.
Back in those days, it was like a mark of notoriety -- something socially restricted to society save sailors, bikers and whores and people who work in canivals. (Mind you, I've since then met a few of those mentioned above, and they are perfectly decent human beings and in most cases, unworthy of condemnation by a self-righteous 'polite society').
I wouldn't say that things have taken a 180-degree turn and the complete opposite is true today, but they have changed and continue to change in a positive direction, for which I'm sure not just artists but the tattooed at large are so gratified to see.
Ink both good and bad is sported just about everywhere in the United States. In KL, I'm pleasantly surprised at the growth in the amount of people who admit to having ink (part of it hidden under clothing), and indeed, look forward to the day very soon, that not only those within the tattoo industry or those working in more 'permissive' fields like art, film and design and advertising -- but everyone out there -- is able to publicly and visually show off their tattoos without hesitation.
.
I truly have found that in the past few years, more and more Malaysians are finding their ways, discovering their means to define themselves as individuals rather than a member of a collective. It's refreshing, and encouraging, and it paves the way to someone being to say, "I got this tattoo because I want to and it's me," instead of "I have to hide this tat because my grandma's going to kill me if she finds out." Well, why not? Having ink doesn't damn you and doesn't make you a worse person, or a source of embarassment. If people are going to judge you for a little bit of self-expression and individuality, then they're probably not the kind of people that you want to keep around you, anyway.
Next post: New pictures, I promise!
My first night here, right off of the plane, we stopped for food at a roadside hawker stand. My wife had told me that I'd better cover up my tattooed arms to avoid problems at the customs counter, and I was wearing a cotton hoody. I was sweating like the proverbial pig in the 27C heat even at three am in July. No one nearby appeared to be tatted, but I was clear of customs, so I removed the hoody, exposing my ink.
It was as if permission had somehow been given to those that sat at the tables around us. First, a young lady at the table just to the right of ours took off her overshirt, and exposed a small tribal phoenix on her back, just below her neck. Then a gent to the left of us pulled off his light jacket and exposed some work he had on his forearm. Before we knew it, about a third of the people nearby were suddenly showing ink that they'd kept hidden until I showed mine.
The following day, we tried to hail a cab, and car after car rolled by us, some slowing as if to stop, then speeding away as the drivers saw my flame-ridden arms. In order to get a cab, we had to have a plan and basically ambush one. I would stand away from my wife while she hailed one, pretending we were not together. After the cab stopped and she's already gotten the ok from the driver for our destination, I would run over and hop in. Twice in the ten days I was here, the driver asked us to exit tha cab after seeing my ink.
Now, just a few years later, cabs stop for us, apparently without any reservations whatsoever. The largest English newspaper here, The Star, writes a Metro Feature Article about our shop, and one of their reporters, Priya Menon, gets her first taste of ink for the article so she can share details about the experience firsthand. And I don't have to be the first at a local restaurant to expose my ink, as typically, when I arrive at one, I am already checking out the tattoos being sported by many of the patrons, which are readily and proudly displayed.
Shows like Miami Ink, LA Ink, Tattoo Highway, and London Ink have helped greatly to alert the rest of the world that there are inked people from every walk of life, as have magazines and other media sources. But there is also another source for spreading the word that we often overlook, and that I believe is the singlemost instrumental; everyday tattooed people showing their ink in public without fear of judgment or rejection.
The time has come when Malaysia has escaped the dark ages and the dark thinking about those wearing ink. Let us celebrate the growth of an entire nation with respect to the art we love so much. Wear sleeveless shirts, spaghetti-strap tops, and those sandals that reveal the beautiful, artistic, flowered bands on delicate ankles. Let the world around you see that tattoos are not only art, but art in such pure form that we celebrate it with permanent marks on our very bodies.
EK:
"Don't tell your family this, but the reason so-and-so always wears a t-shirt is because he has got these huge tattoos, and they really are pretty ugly," someone in my extended family whispered to me in my college days.
It really seemed that having ink was more of a mark of scandalousness, and a public symbol of notoriety. Mind you, that was almost 20 years ago.
Back in those days, it was like a mark of notoriety -- something socially restricted to society save sailors, bikers and whores and people who work in canivals. (Mind you, I've since then met a few of those mentioned above, and they are perfectly decent human beings and in most cases, unworthy of condemnation by a self-righteous 'polite society').
I wouldn't say that things have taken a 180-degree turn and the complete opposite is true today, but they have changed and continue to change in a positive direction, for which I'm sure not just artists but the tattooed at large are so gratified to see.
Ink both good and bad is sported just about everywhere in the United States. In KL, I'm pleasantly surprised at the growth in the amount of people who admit to having ink (part of it hidden under clothing), and indeed, look forward to the day very soon, that not only those within the tattoo industry or those working in more 'permissive' fields like art, film and design and advertising -- but everyone out there -- is able to publicly and visually show off their tattoos without hesitation.
.
I truly have found that in the past few years, more and more Malaysians are finding their ways, discovering their means to define themselves as individuals rather than a member of a collective. It's refreshing, and encouraging, and it paves the way to someone being to say, "I got this tattoo because I want to and it's me," instead of "I have to hide this tat because my grandma's going to kill me if she finds out." Well, why not? Having ink doesn't damn you and doesn't make you a worse person, or a source of embarassment. If people are going to judge you for a little bit of self-expression and individuality, then they're probably not the kind of people that you want to keep around you, anyway.
Next post: New pictures, I promise!
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Some Text on Text Tats (Say that 10 times fast)
EeKoon: Different people, different cultures and different markets like different things. This is no stunning revelation, and when Randy and I began doing a little research as to what kind of tattoos would sell, I was hoping to see a love for written word tats here.
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| Twin roses to remember his late father by |
It did take me by surprise that there is a comparatively smaller amount of interest to stick some 'abc's for good into skin in Kuala Lumpur. In comparison, back in the US of A, script tattoos seem to be more the norm than the exception and we pretty much do a text tat, if not insert text into a pictorial tat at least once a day.
Some other tattoo artists might not give a shit. Not me. The day I don't give a crap about a script tat whether it's big or small is probably the day I stop tattooing. It sounds kinda dramatic, but here's my rationale: Script tattoos can always bring back memories every time the client looks at them, good or bad ones...just never weak ones. At the very least, it stimulates a minor reaction and one that is anything but indifferent.
I've seen clients give wry grins after getting them. And hundreds of big smiles. And sometimes, they just burst into cathartic tears in a few instances(then they tend to hug me real tight and I have to offer Kleenex or a paper towel). But I'm digressing.
I love script tats. Short ones, long ones, edited ones (like a Psalm we had to slice and dice to fit a soldier's back last year and yet retain its meaning). And ones that make up a stanza from a poem I did last week.
Nikki searched long and hard for her next tat, and decided on an excerpt from a Michael Ondaatje poem. Now, since Ondaatje is one of my favourite writers, I jumped on that like white on rice. Why, you might well ask? Because Ondaatje doesn't really just write. His prose sentences sound and feel like poetry. Word juxtaposed against word in new and wonderful manner every time you read it. A fullstop isn't a mere fullstop but a drawn out, oh-so-elegant verbal sigh. It's a treat to read his work, so why not tattoo his work, right?
Anyway, we got it written up, stenciled and inked on her. I loved what she picked, and enjoyed every moment of inking it. I was tempted (hehe) to put a "(c) Michael Ondaatje" at the bottom behind her back but she would beat me like a red-headed stepchild, I think. And oh yeah... a 3 round needle travelling just under her neck and she barely moved, except shifting when we're laughing over I can't remember what. Bonus!
I got into the 'art space' that Randy talks about. You know, that dream-like, blissful feeling when you're deep in the midst of a tat and there is nothing else in this world, just your eyes, your hands and the canvas before you. One that you leave with great reluctance when it's all over.
And with typical post-tattoo presence of mind, I, um, forgot to take a picture yet again. Which explains the lack of the image which should've been inserted right about.... here. (Yeah, Nikki, I'm a spazz, I know!)
Just as there are good ideas and bad ideas, there are good idea scripts and bad idea scripts. There's no one rule that applies to this, save the one that you (especially if you are considering a tattoo of a name) should Never, Ever Forget. And that is: Never Ever Get A Script Tattoo That You Might Regret Someday.
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| Bible verse tattoo. Timeless, apt and never a regret. |
Because, god knows, I've had to cover up enough of them. And that's never a walk in the park. We connect with every person we tattoo at a certain level, and truly, I don't think we ever let that connection go. A tattoo lasts longer than a first, second or third boyfriend. Longer than a marriage or marriages. (thus for example, try to avoid tats of the names of your BF/GF/BFF/etc/spouse, unless deceased). It's too long to get into here, so come ask us personally our take on it :)
Yeah, tattoos really are forever, and in a cover up, we not only deal with having to conceal someone's name, we also get an idea of the client's emotions and reactions - frustration, regret, anger, unhappiness. Imagine getting a feel of some of these things third hand. And how much worse it gets for the one who gets to feel it first hand. Nothing very positive, huh?
"I don't really care what you put over it, as long as the word/s is/are gone" are words we have heard all too often. Yes, even in Malaysia.
For a little giggle, I asked Randy to tell you this story of a couple back in the US who got each other's names on them. This is a story about a smart girl. And a not-as-smart boy.
For a little giggle, I asked Randy to tell you this story of a couple back in the US who got each other's names on them. This is a story about a smart girl. And a not-as-smart boy.
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| This 6'6" mechanic specified old style newsprint text for his nickname. Insisted on a pic before I finished cleaning his fingers up! |
Randy: A young couple, Chris and Ce`Aira (Pronounced "Sierra" but with a very unusual and unique spelling), came to us to get one another's names tattooed. My immediate reaction was to give them The Name Speech: "If you're going to get a name, get your own, or that of a blood relation. Your blood will always be your blood, and your name will always be your own. Love comes and goes; tattoos truly are *forever*". I hoped they would reconsider, and suggested as an alternative getting a "symbol" for one another, as symbols have a time frame, while names always carry the current feelings you have toward that person.
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| Our client-turned-friend Sherry always has her kids with her. |
I even went so far as to show them the pitt bull on my left shoulder, which represents me, the panther on my right shoulder which represents my wife, and explained to them that my heart sits right between the two. I also pointed out that if all hell broke loose and we divorced one another tomorrow, when I looked at the tattoos in the mirror I'd remember the day I got them, how good things were, and never have to suffer the indignities of the next love in my life staring coldly at me and my ink asking "Who's Ee Koon, and when is that coming off?!" They had made up their minds and insisted on the names against my best advice and efforts to dissuade them.
I did their tattoos, his first, then hers. As I was halfway through hers, she looked him in the eye and informed him, "If we ever break up, I'll just add a "t" to the end of mine, and make it say "Christ"; what're you going to do with yours?" His eyes got wide as he realized she had an easy escape while her name would be much more difficult to change, and almost certainly require some big, dark, ugly imagery capable of covering up the large, thick letters on his forearm.
"Oh!" he shouted, "You had that planned!"
Her reply was short and sweet: "Damn right, didn't you listen to the man?!"
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Who is honoring whom?
In the last coulple of weeks, I have noticed a trend of sorts that has me scratching my head in wonderment. People are coming into the shop dressed to the nines, and we are getting many phone calls from people asking questions that seem to suggest they're sort of "pre-qualifying" for us. While I had heard rumors that some studios here only cater to the inordinately attractive, the wealthy, the powerful, and the famous, it struck me as an impossible farce. I mean, I know there are people out there who think that their tattooing is so fabulous you must earn the right to wear it, but come on now.
As a professional tattooist who has tattooed wealthy, famous, powerful, and sizzling hot clients, the truth of the matter is that it is not them who should feel honored to sit in my chair. When a person comes and sits in my chair, *I* am the one who is honored, regardless of who they are, or from what walk of life they hail. As I have said before, Pablo Picasso didn't have people lining up to wear his art for all the world to see.
These people are putting their trust in me, and allowing me to permamently mark their skin with tattoos that other people will see for all the years to come. Their children and grandchildren will one day ask them about their ink, and when I imagine some of those conversations in my head, they don't start off with "Well the artist who did this was famous..." they begin with "Well, I really liked this design, and so I got it inked on me...". It should be *your* story you're telling them, not mine. After all, it is your skin that bears the mark, and it was you who came to me looking to have it tattooed. If anything is said about me during this conversation, I would hope that it is something to the nature of "...The whole experience was fantastic! I love the artwork, the artist made me very comfortable, and we became friends."
People from all walks of life, in all shapes and sizes, from every race, in every social class are curious about tattoos and may want to get inked, but big egos on artists who expect clients to prove their merits before taking their appointments dissuade many from ever investigating the possibilities. Every one of us knows at least one person who may not be very attractive, who may come from humble origins, may work as a street sweeper, may have a disability, etc, who is an absolutely wonderful person, and a joy to know. Given the choice, would you see this wonderful human being deprived of the ability to get a quality tattoo simply because they didn't drive the latest BMW, or wear a thong bikini as an extra on the set of Baywatch?
I come from humble origins. I don't drive the latest BMW. You've got a better chance of being struck by lightning *twice* on the same day than ever seeing me on Baywatch. My artistic "talent" is the result of training and repeated practice, and people seem to love the work I do. The truth is we're all good at one thing or another; usually something that intrigues or interests us. I am simply lucky enough to have found a way to use what I love so much as a way to pay my bills and buy the things I want. Things like plane tickets to Malaysia so my wife can be closer to her family and friends, whom she loves so much. Things like shop fixtures and equipment to open a new shop here. Things like equipment and inks that allow me to continue to learn and grow as a tattooist, and see even more smiles when people take their first look at their new tattoo.
I don't name those I have tattooed because I don't feel that having tattooed movie stars, or rock stars, or whoever somehow magically improves my work. Even the people we discuss here in the blog who we have tattooed have been asked if they would mind us telling others about the experiences we had while inking them. If I am not able to give 110% to my art on any particular day, I cancel *all* of my appointments, and reschedule with each person, personally if at all possible. I don't just cancel the "noteworthy" people, and let the "average" folks settle for whatever I am capable of doing that day.
I have been blessed by the living that my work affords me, and do not need anyone's money badly enough to risk someone living the rest of their life wearing anything I am not entirely proud to have done. And, young miss Ling, as mentioned in "The Stonework Butterfly" let me just say it here publically in reference to your comment - The honor here was all mine. I appreciate your comment, and I know it's from the heart. So long as you enjoy wearing the tattoo as much as I enjoyed doing it, and seeing your reaction to it, we both win! Few things in life work out that way. I am honored that you allowed me to include myself in one of them.
Randy.
PS For those of you who have an interest in tattoos and want to check out what is probably the single coolest tattoo blog I have ever found, check out this link. Very informative, community oriented, and kepy up to date with worldwide information about the world of tattooing by a great crew!
http://www.tattooblog.com/
As a professional tattooist who has tattooed wealthy, famous, powerful, and sizzling hot clients, the truth of the matter is that it is not them who should feel honored to sit in my chair. When a person comes and sits in my chair, *I* am the one who is honored, regardless of who they are, or from what walk of life they hail. As I have said before, Pablo Picasso didn't have people lining up to wear his art for all the world to see.
These people are putting their trust in me, and allowing me to permamently mark their skin with tattoos that other people will see for all the years to come. Their children and grandchildren will one day ask them about their ink, and when I imagine some of those conversations in my head, they don't start off with "Well the artist who did this was famous..." they begin with "Well, I really liked this design, and so I got it inked on me...". It should be *your* story you're telling them, not mine. After all, it is your skin that bears the mark, and it was you who came to me looking to have it tattooed. If anything is said about me during this conversation, I would hope that it is something to the nature of "...The whole experience was fantastic! I love the artwork, the artist made me very comfortable, and we became friends."
People from all walks of life, in all shapes and sizes, from every race, in every social class are curious about tattoos and may want to get inked, but big egos on artists who expect clients to prove their merits before taking their appointments dissuade many from ever investigating the possibilities. Every one of us knows at least one person who may not be very attractive, who may come from humble origins, may work as a street sweeper, may have a disability, etc, who is an absolutely wonderful person, and a joy to know. Given the choice, would you see this wonderful human being deprived of the ability to get a quality tattoo simply because they didn't drive the latest BMW, or wear a thong bikini as an extra on the set of Baywatch?
I come from humble origins. I don't drive the latest BMW. You've got a better chance of being struck by lightning *twice* on the same day than ever seeing me on Baywatch. My artistic "talent" is the result of training and repeated practice, and people seem to love the work I do. The truth is we're all good at one thing or another; usually something that intrigues or interests us. I am simply lucky enough to have found a way to use what I love so much as a way to pay my bills and buy the things I want. Things like plane tickets to Malaysia so my wife can be closer to her family and friends, whom she loves so much. Things like shop fixtures and equipment to open a new shop here. Things like equipment and inks that allow me to continue to learn and grow as a tattooist, and see even more smiles when people take their first look at their new tattoo.
I don't name those I have tattooed because I don't feel that having tattooed movie stars, or rock stars, or whoever somehow magically improves my work. Even the people we discuss here in the blog who we have tattooed have been asked if they would mind us telling others about the experiences we had while inking them. If I am not able to give 110% to my art on any particular day, I cancel *all* of my appointments, and reschedule with each person, personally if at all possible. I don't just cancel the "noteworthy" people, and let the "average" folks settle for whatever I am capable of doing that day.
I have been blessed by the living that my work affords me, and do not need anyone's money badly enough to risk someone living the rest of their life wearing anything I am not entirely proud to have done. And, young miss Ling, as mentioned in "The Stonework Butterfly" let me just say it here publically in reference to your comment - The honor here was all mine. I appreciate your comment, and I know it's from the heart. So long as you enjoy wearing the tattoo as much as I enjoyed doing it, and seeing your reaction to it, we both win! Few things in life work out that way. I am honored that you allowed me to include myself in one of them.
Randy.
PS For those of you who have an interest in tattoos and want to check out what is probably the single coolest tattoo blog I have ever found, check out this link. Very informative, community oriented, and kepy up to date with worldwide information about the world of tattooing by a great crew!
http://www.tattooblog.com/
Sunday, December 12, 2010
The Cracked Stone Butterfly
EK: Ling and I have been friends for about six years. We were first, workmates -- me, newly-transferred after having spent five years doing loads of legwork and city stories from another section, and she, having just joined the company.
It didn't take long for us to become friends. As a friend, you really couldn't ask for a better person -- she's steadfast, rational, loyal and infinitely supportive. And an uber-foodie (always a good thing in my book)!
In the time when I was inking in the United States though, we've not always kept in contact. We would just write the occasional "Hi, how are you doing?" e-mail to one another.When we touched down in July, she was one of the first people I spoke to, and she organised a welcome home dinner at Tropicana City Mall -- one that brought together "the old gang". Since then, we've tried to get everyone together for a good chowdown every once in a while, and each time, the saying "a good time was had by all" held true.
I was a little surprised when she mentioned that she already had her first tattoo -- a pretty little piece of Celtic knotwork -- and was looking for a second one. Quite frankly, Ling didn't strike me as the type who would ever get ink, which shows you what an ass I've made of myself from making presumptions, even upon a good friend. As for picking what she picked, and how it came about, I'll just let Randy tell you about it.
Randy: When Ling mentioned butterflies, I immediately reflected back on a piece I drew up years ago that held great significance for me. It was a butterfly that evolved from cracked and crumbling stone into full color.
I had been looking for the right person to wear the design; someone that understood that we all start out in this world weighted to the earth, where we must keep ourselves strong, and take the punishment that life and learning throws our way until the day comes when we achieve, through the lessons we have learned, the ability to fly, without the need for stone armor.
While I have not known Ling very long, or in great detail, something about this young lady strikes a chord there. Or, to be more precise, many things about her, from her personality as described by my wife in the paragraphs above, to the smile that takes over every feature of her face at simple, seemingly insignificant things overlooked by those who are still firmly seated in the stonework phase.
We discussed the design, and it was clear to me that she got it, without me having to explain it's intended meaning. After many, many years, and dozens of conversations with people who wanted butterfly tattoos, I finally met someone who understood. And, she wanted to wear the design!
I was a little concerned after looking over my drawing. There were some very very small details that absolutely *must* be in the finished product, which meant doing some of the work with the two most brutal needles in the tattooist's arsenal, a three and a single. I take a lot of pride having gentle hands, and have always been of the belief that the less tattoos hurt, the more people will enjoy the entirety of the experience. But singles and threes are painful even in the most gentle of hands. Ling took it like a champ, staying virtually motionless regardless of what needle I was using at the time.
(EK: Ling had worried about the pain factor earlier, so I cleared my tattoo schedule to be able to help out. She didn't need any, as it turned out. We spent the majority of her tat session yakking with Susan aka Spitfire Sus who'd dropped by to say hi. Randy spent the majority of his tat session...lost in his work.)
I Am also a firm believer that time should not be a factor when it comes to artwork, and as the tattoo began to take shape on her skin, I made a few alterations, some for better fit to the body part, some for more visual interest, some that just felt, well, "right". As the detail began to appear, I enjoyed the mental shift into what I call "Artspace", and the myriad perceptive changes that shift brings with it. Before long, three and a half
hours had passed, and I was looking at the results of my efforts. And again, there was the smile I described earlier, simply glowing in her eyes, as she looked at the finished product in the mirror.
Do we, as artists, get caught up in our work? I'd have to say, "Yes!", but then that's the difference between an artist and someone who can draw, paint, sculpt, or work in any of the artistic mediums; the passion. And like many other artists I know, the passion for what we do is the point of doing it. We all start out trying to impress people with our skill, but there comes that time, if we persist in growing as artists, where the passion flowing through us as we create is the ultimate rush. It's that instant where time stops, where perception overtakes logic, where judgments are replaced by a world composed entirely of subtle nuances that cannot be described in words.
I have to say, working with Ling, and doing this tattoo sated my addiction to the rush.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Truth be told...
We have been really lucky to have some coverage in The Star's Metro section earlier this week on Dec 2. Got some phone calls, some curious, some kinda .... weird, but you know, it's all good. Here's the story, if ya'll missed it:
http://thestar.com.my/metro/story.asp?file=/2010/12/2/central/7509592&sec=central
Checked our emails after work this evening to find that we've received a bunch of messages, all alerting us to malicious allegations and slanderous remarks made by another artist/shop owner on his Facebook page.
This is the page:
http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/profile.php?id=721874433&v=wall
It came as a rude shock to see someone in the industry would behave this way. In response, here's what we have to say:
My thanks to those of you who have taken the time to let me know what is being said about me and mine on Facebook. However, I am not in the tattoo business to spend my time in such childish pursuits as personal attacks on people I don't even know. My focus is on the art, the artform, and doing what I do to further the recognition of tattooing as a true form of artistic expression. And while I must agree with the vast majority of you who have described his attacks as "an act of desperation trying to maintain his waning stranglehold on the tattoo scene in Malaysia", the simple fact that any warring between artists and shop owners does absolutely nothing to improve public perception of tattooing and the tattooed, it only makes all of us appear childish and desperate. And that I will have nothing to do with.
As I said in The Star, a tattoo community wherein artists and shop owners are friends, where professionals in the business trade information and techniques, and where another artist's work can be openly appreciated even when being viewed by people from another shop, progresses rapidly into a world where life for everyone is improved. One where the art coming from the area soon reaches out to touch the entire world. And that is where my efforts will remain focused.
This kind of thing is what gets the most attention - The Drama. Whether we realize it or not, as professionals in this industry we have a responsibility to our clients and the entirety of the tattoo community NOT to engage in behavior that causes a bad light to be shone on those who express themselves through tattoos. As a professional, and as a man who genuinely loves tattooing as an artform, I will gladly take the abuse from one bad apple rather than reacting to it and disparaging the artform that I love so much. Tattooing in Malaysia has enough hurdles to overcome, sociological, religious, and historical among others. It is just starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel here. I can fight back, gain nothing I don't already have, and set the community back decades, or I can go on with my life, uninjured and reaching for the stars. And, in the words of the immortal Jimmi Hendrix, "'Scuse me, while I kiss the sky!"
One other thought here before I close. I want to make absolutely clear that this writing was brought on by the actions of one single artist/owner, and that other people tattooing in that same shop do not seem to be involved to the best of my knowledge. I have seen recent work done by Simon, and work done by Lina, and have nothing but good things to say about the both of them. My respect for them as people and artists remains intact, as it does for their contribution in furthering tattooing as an artform.
Randy.
http://thestar.com.my/metro/story.asp?file=/2010/12/2/central/7509592&sec=central
Checked our emails after work this evening to find that we've received a bunch of messages, all alerting us to malicious allegations and slanderous remarks made by another artist/shop owner on his Facebook page.
This is the page:
http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/profile.php?id=721874433&v=wall
It came as a rude shock to see someone in the industry would behave this way. In response, here's what we have to say:
My thanks to those of you who have taken the time to let me know what is being said about me and mine on Facebook. However, I am not in the tattoo business to spend my time in such childish pursuits as personal attacks on people I don't even know. My focus is on the art, the artform, and doing what I do to further the recognition of tattooing as a true form of artistic expression. And while I must agree with the vast majority of you who have described his attacks as "an act of desperation trying to maintain his waning stranglehold on the tattoo scene in Malaysia", the simple fact that any warring between artists and shop owners does absolutely nothing to improve public perception of tattooing and the tattooed, it only makes all of us appear childish and desperate. And that I will have nothing to do with.
As I said in The Star, a tattoo community wherein artists and shop owners are friends, where professionals in the business trade information and techniques, and where another artist's work can be openly appreciated even when being viewed by people from another shop, progresses rapidly into a world where life for everyone is improved. One where the art coming from the area soon reaches out to touch the entire world. And that is where my efforts will remain focused.
This kind of thing is what gets the most attention - The Drama. Whether we realize it or not, as professionals in this industry we have a responsibility to our clients and the entirety of the tattoo community NOT to engage in behavior that causes a bad light to be shone on those who express themselves through tattoos. As a professional, and as a man who genuinely loves tattooing as an artform, I will gladly take the abuse from one bad apple rather than reacting to it and disparaging the artform that I love so much. Tattooing in Malaysia has enough hurdles to overcome, sociological, religious, and historical among others. It is just starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel here. I can fight back, gain nothing I don't already have, and set the community back decades, or I can go on with my life, uninjured and reaching for the stars. And, in the words of the immortal Jimmi Hendrix, "'Scuse me, while I kiss the sky!"
One other thought here before I close. I want to make absolutely clear that this writing was brought on by the actions of one single artist/owner, and that other people tattooing in that same shop do not seem to be involved to the best of my knowledge. I have seen recent work done by Simon, and work done by Lina, and have nothing but good things to say about the both of them. My respect for them as people and artists remains intact, as it does for their contribution in furthering tattooing as an artform.
Randy.
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