So! You want to be a tattooer?! | Tattoo Apprenticeship | Atlanta Tattoo Shop

Let me preface this by saying life has taken a crazy, uncertain turn this year, with many of us out of work and struggling. Here at Gate City Tattoo, we prioritize the health and safety of our clientele and staff above everything else. That being said, in this blog I will discuss what it means to me to be a tattooer and the journey I set out on to become one.

For centuries, tattooing has been a rather exclusive subculture—one that if you got in you were lucky, meaning, that for hundreds of years, tattooing was passed down in some sort of ‘master to apprentice’ dynamic—and to be chosen by a master meant you were very fortunate. Unwritten traditions, codes of conduct rules, and sacred practices passed down generationally through service and surrender. I was so lucky to have sought out a true teacher to teach me the age-old craft. I had always been drawn to tattooing growing up. I had seen tattoos on family and become enthralled at a very early age. So, my path in life, though uncomfortable and uncertain at times, always followed the unrelenting idea of pursuing this act of modern shamanism.

Tattooing for me was obsessive. I found every way I could to immerse myself in whatever I could that had some semblance of relevance to tattooing. Naturally, I started experimenting with carving crudely rendered images into my own flesh. Subsequently, I would start to poke very rudimentary images into my school friends as well. It wouldn’t be until my late teens and early 20s that I would actively seek out a mentor to teach me how to tattoo. I had always created art in some form, so I started along this journey of trying to prove I had something to offer tattooing to whoever would give me any sort of guidance.

Seeking an apprenticeship was like no other job search, simply because tattooing isn’t just a job, as I would come to realize. Seeking a mentor is not easy, and I sought after someone who had not only years of experience but an unwavering moral compass when it came to tattooing, a strict code of ethics, and someone who would be as devoted to teaching me how to tattoo as I was to learning. After years of going to tattoo shops searching for the right teacher, I met James Cooper at the Atlanta Tattoo Convention. He would hesitantly—after months of my persistence—take me on as his apprentice. James would warn me that this life wasn’t for everyone and that “not everyone was cut out to be a tattooer.” Still, I remained determined to see this through.

At the time James took me on, I was working as a manager at a factory making decent money with a fairly average daily schedule. But, eventually, it started to compete with my tattooing time. What reality TV sometimes fails to showcase in tattooing is what it takes for an artist to get to the point where they can consider themselves a working tattooer. I devoted every day I could to the tattoo shop. To me, it was like worship on the Sabbath. From scrubbing and mopping the floors from 11am, to setting up stations and breaking things down till sometimes near 3am. I didn’t mind it—even though some of those long shifts were not only physically but mentally draining. I was right back at it again at 11am. I studied my craft as much as I could. I submitted as a student to tattooing. I spent months learning the mechanics of my tools, making needles, and building machines from parts. I was taught anything less than meticulous attention to detail was unacceptable, and I learned everything from how to mop, dust, and scrub tubes, to talking to clients and potential clients selling tattoos and art—all while making little to no money. But to me, it was all worth it. At times, I found myself desperately broke having to choose between getting gas to get to the studio and whether or not I could eat that day. Still, tattooing was all I wanted and getting to work was all that mattered.

No one tells you how frustrating and lonely getting into this business is. Relationships outside the shop suffer, you constantly bring work home with you, and, for some, it’s just not sustainable for long-term relationships and that was fine for me, as long as I stayed the course. As long as I stayed the course, no matter how hard James got on to me about never settling for mediocrity, or how hard I was hazed (there was quite a bit of hazing), no matter whatever ridiculous task or punishment was set in front of me, none of it mattered as long as I stayed the course. James often pushed me to breaking points. There were times I thought maybe I wasn’t cut out for tattooing “maybe I’m just too soft,” “maybe I’m not good enough,” “what if I mess up,” “this is forever.” These are the daunting thoughts that crossed my mind on a daily basis. But learning to tattoo is having this rush of adrenaline and excitement and, at the same time, having this sense of crippling self-doubt. I spent months deconstructing what I had developed as a creative process in order to learn how to design for tattoos. Tracing classic traditional Americana designs until my hands hurt. Eventually as money got tighter and it got harder to sustain myself on the occasional tip-out, I had to get a night job as a private driver. I would work at the tattoo studio from 11am to close, which was anywhere from 8pm to midnight or later some nights, and then work from the time I left the studio until 4 or 5am, seven days a week. Working that schedule definitely took a toll on me. Finding time for myself was a challenge. Some days, it felt like I was running off of caffeine and the idea that maybe this might get easier if I coast on autopilot. But evidently nothing in life worth doing comes easy. James often told me there is no reward in life without struggle.

After two years of hard work, long hours, and practicing tattooing synthetic skin, James would have me make a small tattoo on him for the first time tattooing in a shop setting. I don’t know if I had ever been as nervous about anything like that before in my life. I didn’t sleep the night before, and on the big day my stomach was in knots the entire time, and I shook so bad that running any sort of straight line was damn near impossible. But I made it through. It was hard to maintain my composure once I was done. It felt like nothing I could put into words, and I will be forever grateful for that opportunity. It is a dear memory I will hold on to for a long time.

I would next go on to tattooing my friends and family. Eventually, I would work my way onto the floor, under the condition of completing a series of tasks including stripping down to nothing but a pair of rather tight briefs and a pair of wings and working the shop’s annual Valentine’s Day Social dressed as Cupid. As humiliating and uncomfortable as that was, it still didn’t matter because all I wanted in life was to make it as a tattooer. And I got through that, too, reminding myself that nothing in this life is promised to anyone, and sometimes life can put you in unexpected and uncomfortable situations. I would start taking on my own clients and small appointments in early March to only then have to stop working due to the rapid spread of COVID-19 and the government-mandated stay-at-home orders. Three weeks into what I viewed as my life’s work, my career was abruptly halted indefinitely. I was blindsided like everyone else was and struggled trying to figure out what I would do whilst keeping my health and the health and safety of my clientele priority. But I continue to love every aspect of tattooing and as we all try to figure out a new normal, I continue to learn and prioritize what I was taught is morally right in tattooing. Here at Gate City, we love tattooing, and your continued love and support has been extremely overwhelming.