Posted on 06/04/2006 11:57:26 AM PDT by Graybeard58
To tattoo or not to tattoo? That was definitely not the question.
At least, it wasn't the question being asked by the people ready to think ink Friday at the Adam's Mark Hotel, where the inaugural Denver Tattoo Convention was convening.
And whether you want to label the scene unfurling in the hotel's Grand Ballroom bizarre or beguiling - judging from the displays of flora, fauna and phantasmagoria, to say nothing of "weird eyeball things" - on assorted backs, chests, arms, legs, hands, necks and nether regions, this is definitely an event to dye for.
"You can feel the energy. Everyone is jazzed up to be here," says Dan Campbell, 32, a Colorado Springs landscaper who came to the convention to see what was going on and stayed to have a mermaid added to his portfolio of tattoos.
"It's funny, but now it's kind of like you're weird if you don't have a tattoo," adds Henri Montegut, 45, a tattoo artist from New Orleans who has noticed that "even older people are getting into tattoos now."
That would explain the 73-year-old Big Easy man who recently asked him to install a fleur-de-lis on his body.
"Seventy-three - incredible!" enthuses Montegut.
Speaking of incredible, well, that doesn't even begin to describe The Enigma, whose entire body is tattooed into blue jigsaw-puzzle pieces - even the two Teflon implants he has in his head, the ones that give him a devilish cast.
As befitting his name, The Enigma declines to give out his age ("I'm older than my teeth and as young as my tongue") or his origins. He does confess to being a "mortal genie" and allows that he is also a musician and an artist. Oh, yeah, he's no slouch at being a sideshow freak, either, as evidenced by the long nails he is wont to drive up his nostrils.
Meanwhile, thoroughly spiked on his tattooing legacy, 74-year-old Lyle Tuttle looks around the ballroom, takes in the epidermal vistas of waterfalls, lotuses, gargoyles, griffins and Egyptian goddesses, and laughs, "I think of all these young people as my illegitimate kids."
Tuttle got his first tattoo when he was 14 and, well, basically never stopped. Today, except for his hands and head, his body is a virtual skin billboard of the inked images from six continents, the most recent being a polar bear he received in Norway, "inside the Arctic Circle."
"I think of tattoos as signs of adventure," says Tuttle who, until he retired 15 years ago, was the country's tattoo artist extraordinaire. He was on the cover of Rolling Stone and was profiled in The Wall Street Journal - the man whose art graced the bodies of Cher, Janis Joplin, the Allman Brothers and more people than he can remember.
Back when he started, receiving a tattoo was like "getting stung by the devil," but Tuttle has survived to see his passion at least float close to the American mainstream.
Not that he ever expects full acceptance of tattoos. "Oh, there'll always be a stigma," he says, sounding like a man who doesn't care very much.
Ditto for Kelly Gormley, 32, an Albuquerque artist who feels that tattooing is "still a youth thing, still about rebelliousness. When it loses that, it won't be cool anymore."
Chad Martin, 37, doesn't expect everyone to recognize cool when they see it. The Lakewood tattoo artist, pretty much a sea of ink, notices how "people still kind of freak out. It's like you're a carnival."
He still notices some people pulling their young children close when they pass him on the street. Furthermore, the fact that his right arm is a virtual harem doesn't make him popular among the masses.
"Since my whole right arm is all naked chicks, a lot of people find that offensive. But, you know, I find it offensive that they find it offensive."
Speaking of being an outcast, Bret Zarro, 45, a New York tattoo artist, can remember when "no one would sit next to me on the subway" because of his tattoos. But the us-against-them theme only convinced him that "tattooing is not just an occupation, it's a lifestyle.
"A good tattoo is an enhancement. It's like a nose job or breast augmentation. It is artistic, symmetrical, it works with an individual's musculature."
It may even work better if you can tap into the right rhythm. And no one knows this better than Angela Bolson, 32, a San Diego artist who claims to be the only woman in the world to be honored with the Samoan title of sulu'ape (chief) by virtue of her mastering the art of Western Samoan hand- tap tattooing.
Although she doesn't use the traditional au - sharpened boar tusk - Sulu'ape Angela's skill in her art has given her a greater appreciation of the tattoo process.
"This is an art," she insists, explaining, "It takes more time to blend color in skin than on a canvas."
Furthermore, "A canvas won't move, won't breathe, won't bleed."
Nor will a canvas become infected. Which is where Karl Schiemann comes in. Schiemann, who works for the Denver Department of Public Health and Environment, is spending several hours inspecting the booths to ensure the proper hygienic and safety standards are in place.
"Not that it's much of a problem," he explains. "The artists are very professional. The last thing they want to do is hurt somebody."
As he moves through the room, Schiemann is hard to miss. After all, he's the only person in a white shirt and tie. Ah, but beneath that conservative packaging lurks a freer spirit.
"Yeah, I've thought I'd like to have a tattoo someday," he admits. The problem is, "I don't want a small tattoo. I'd want a full body one, and right now, with kids to feed, I'm not sure I can afford one."
Furthermore, he needs to be aware of a stark tattoo reality. Namely, that "they're addictive," says Lori Baird, 25, of Cheyenne.
As she admits this, Baird is watching Porno Jim Anderson sketch the outline of a tribal wreath on her ankle. It is her third tattoo, and probably "not my last."
Naturally, this is a sentiment likely shared by the 10,000 or so expected visitors to the three-day convention, most of whom will be dazzled by the colors and designs that can be etched to satisfy their itch to wear attractive art. Because, as Lyle Tuttle - or even The Enigma - can tell you, when it comes to tattoos, beauty is definitely only skin deep.
(Donning flame retardant suit now)
I don't have any but my sons do. I guess I didn't drum it in their heads hard enough that tatoos are permanent.
I don't think they're permanent any more.My understanding is that some dermatologists are making a comfortable living removing them with lasers and such.
My tattoo has not hindered my career one bit. I show it proudly in the summer when I wear capris and skirts.
The gentleman in that picture likely would not be hired but if the lady wore a elbow length blouse then she probably would be.
More harmful then tattoos to your employment prospects is a tongue piercing.
I've always wondered about the addictive nature of tattoos and piercings. I have one tattoo, and I'm very proud of it, but I've never had a desire for any others. An aquaintance of mine had a full sleeve and was working on covering her entire back and stomach, but never seemed really happy with any of them.
Come to think of it, she had a baby recently. I wonder how her belly art looks now...
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