Time… It drives me crazy. Have you ever had to wait for something? Nobody likes to wait. Waiting for the shower to get hot. It takes what, twenty seconds? Waiting for someone to come out of the house, when you’re already in the car?… Waiting for your package to arrive after you’ve checked the tracking and it’s “Out for delivery.” Waiting for summer break, when you’re in fifth grade. That was the worst!
It was the year 2000. Y2K was a bust. Some of you reading wouldn’t even remember, but there was supposed to be a worldwide technology crash because all of the world’s computers allegedly weren’t programmed to go past 1999. I’m sure it was started by some fear mongering conspiracy theorist trying to capitalize on ignorance. My in-laws called a family meeting to make a plan to “Bug out” to a safe place in the woods where they wanted to bury guns and freeze dried eggs to survive. I was excited to live out my “red dawn” fantasies… (not really)…I remember watching Australia celebrate the new year 16 hours ahead of us, and nothing was crashing. Same as always, just screaming drunk people in little paper hats. As the new year rolled along with the setting sun, and the time zones alerted their occupants of the new millennium, we at the end of the day, in the Pacific standard time zone, just waited. We waited to finally be the last ones on the planet to play Prince’s song “1999”.
What about the other end of the spectrum? What about when the time has gone but you don’t know how or where it all went.
In 2000, I had only been tattooing since August. Less than a year, and had bought as many tattoo magazines as I could. Which happened to be about three. There weren’t that many then. I even bought some used ones from 1996, that had biker babes. Nipples were ok to show back then, on those hairspray teased chopper straddlers. I remember seeing a photo of Deano Cook standing with Bob Baxter at some convention holding a beer. That was the photo… Deano, talking to Bob holding a Budweiser. That was magazine worthy? I remember reading their names. I didn’t know Deano was an amazing tattooer, I didn’t know Bob was editor in chief of the best tattoo magazine around. It just looked like two regular guys talking. I clearly remember thinking, “These guys must be pretty important to have this picture printed in a magazine, but they look pretty damn normal.” Years later I had the privilege of meeting both of these influential men. RIP Bob Baxter, thank you for all you did for the tattoo community.
A few months later, 2001 now, and the NTA, (National Tattoo Association. The NTA originally started as the “National Tattoo Club of the World” back in early 1976… when I was three) they were having their annual convention just an hour and a half away from me in Reno, NV. I was nervous, but wanted to go. I’m a self taught, still tattooing in my trailer in a town of 5000 people, scratcher…heading to see some of the world’s best. Walking into the casino. I see Paul Booth sitting at a table outside the convention doors, eating a sandwich. He looked like he should be eating a sacrificed baby goat, but it was just a regular sandwich. (I didn’t know who Paul Booth was, I just knew I had never seen a person look like they were the bad guy from Mad Max out in public) We walked through the doors to a world of the tattooed. The first booth was Jack Rudy’s. I didn’t know who he was either, but I could tell he was a bad ass. He had a crowd around him, and he was signing the posters and T shirts. A couple booths down, I see the guy who drank the beer with Bob Baxter. There he was. My first celebrity tattoo experience. Deano Cook, doing some crazy detailed porn pin up on a guy’s calf. His “Penthouse” magazine laid out for reference. His wife, at the time, was selling T-shirts that proclaimed in giant block letters, “FUCK YEAH THEY HURT!” and on his table was a sign up sheet for the Christian Tattoo Association. (Funny), Seemed Ironic, but what did I know? He was tattooing with three liners and three shaders. I only owned one machine at the time.
We made our way around the small convention floor. I came to a corner booth. A quiet, gentle looking man was sitting behind a table of books. He had a button up plaid shirt on, and a beanie, folded up like he worked on the docks. He was older than the rest of the guys I saw there. There was a young guy showing him his small book of dragon paintings. He must have had a hundred paintings in this little photo album, all painterly Japanese style, crazy looking dragons and the older gentleman in the booth was telling him what he thought. As I tried to look and listen, I was shrinking inside. This kid obviously younger than me. I was 27, he looked like he was 20. He had done however many paintings were in that photo album more than me. That’s because I had never done a single painting, and wouldn’t for another four or five years. As he flipped through the book with way too much enthusiasm, the older man just looked… Then told him, “Keep it up.”
I looked down at the table at all of these books. I didn’t have much money and I had no idea what to get. But there was something about the quiet calmness he had, and obviously he knew something about something. The way that young guy was talking to him, the honor and excitement he had just showing him his paintings…I saw the original Sailor Jerry Flash book on the table. The only one out at the time. A blue paper back book of old tattoo designs. My friend told me traditional tattoos were cool, but I couldn’t understand why. I picked it up. It was $50. I couldn’t believe a paper back book of old tattoo flash would be that much. But I wanted it. I then picked up a cheesy looking, smaller book. It looked like a coloring book for kids to me. “Dragon Tattoo Design” It was like $35. I grabbed it since they were talking about dragons. I look inside and it’s just simple line drawings. I was wrestling against my logic that was saying, “ You’re really going to pay this much for these? I did pay it, I just wanted anything I could get about tattoos. I showed them to my friend Jason, he liked Traditional, so I knew he’d like the Sailor Jerry Flash. I showed him the dragon book and he said, “I think that guy is a pretty big deal.” I look at the author, D.E Hardy. I walked up to him, hoping it was him at least. I said, “Could you sign this book?” I didn’t want to be laughed at, since I didn’t even know if he was actually the guy, let alone who Don Ed Hardy was…. He said, “Sure.” he asked my name, and wrote, “To Jeff, Keep the art alive. “ Don Ed Hardy.
“Keep the art alive.”
I didn’t know what that would mean to me as the years have gone by, but those words mean more than I can describe.
Skip ahead a year, and I’m back in Reno for the Lady Luck Tattoo show 2002 (15 years ago now). I attended my first tattoo seminar by none other than Lyle Tuttle, the room full of eager tattooers hoping to glean some wisdom and knowledge from the San Francisco legend who tattooed Janice Joplin… Lyle takes a big drink of his cocktail and says, and I quote, “Tattoos aren’t art!!! And…don’t drink coffee or water when you tattoo, cause they make you piss, and that takes time… and time is money!”
Two very different perspectives. I respect both men, but after 17 years… I think I’ll go with Ed’s advise.
Something happened to me a couple years ago, about 15 years into tattooing. It feels complex and difficult to explain, and I want to use a clever metaphor to illustrate some profound ethereal realization of a multidimensional perspective… but, the reality and simple truth is… I finally fell in love with tattooing. Straight and simple. I love it. I love how real it is… and how difficult it is. It hurts to see the culture be torn apart and dismembered over the shallow pursuit of money and fame, when the real value of what we do is in the heart and soul of it. it’s in the blood so to speak. Its in the pain. It’s in the healing… it’s in the fleeting, fading color, and in the memory of whatever experience the person has while getting the tattoo. Whether they were 20 and drunk, or 40 an traveling to Japan for work.
The lasting value is in the temporal experience. How ironic. “Keep the art alive.” I decided to look up the dictionary definition of art…
art1
ärt/
noun
noun: art; plural noun: arts; plural noun: the arts
- 1.
the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.
It’s funny that there’s no mention in the definition here of money, hourly rate, years of experience, location, who you know, or who you are….
I want to thank Mr. Don Ed Hardy for telling me the most important thing to do in tattooing. He didn’t tell me how to do it. He didn’t tell me what I needed to learn, who or what I needed to know. He didn’t tell me where to go, or what to get when I got there. He did however tell me the only thing he should have and the only thing I think is worth repeating or passing on. So to you. reading this, I concur…
You too, “Keep the art alive.”
