The Villain Arts Tattoo Convention

Many years ago at the height of my really shitty, really abusive first marriage I got a tattoo. Without going into way too much information about it, I have a ton of bad memories and feelings about that tattoo and a major case of tattoo regret.  It was ugly and shoddily done by an inexperienced artist who had his own shop! Always, ALWAYS check out your artist’s portfolio and credentials. Don’t assume that him or her having their own shop means that they are a great artist. The tattoo itself would have been hideous, even If it wasn’t badly done. It was a pair of red lips that had been sewn shut. It was on the back of my neck so, thankfully, it was not visible most of the time. But I still knew it was there; oh yes. It was like a dirty secret, whispering insecurities in my ear from its place on my neck- a reminder of the many mistakes of my early twenties. I hated it.

It’s been many years since I’ve gotten a tattoo. I got several ugly ones in the years after the lips. I even got a couple of regrettable homegrown tattoos. But, I finally just stopped. I wanted quality ink, not cheap ugly stuff. I had one or two that I was actually proud of (professionally done), but the majority were crap. Quality tattoos cost money – and well deserved money. So, it happened that I was following this really great tattoo artist on Facebook and she was coming in to town for a tattoo convention. I have never, ever been to a convention and Tampa (the neighboring city hosting the convention) is confusing and scary to me. But, she had a beautiful piece that she wanted to tattoo, and I had a spot on my neck that needed to be covered. We made the arrangements and I met her there Sunday afternoon.

If you have never been to a convention, you should really experience it.  Once inside, my husband and I were quickly approached by artists trying to hard-sell us on a tattoo by them, pushing their cards in our hands and asking what we needed. It reminded me of going to a flea market in a way. Not to say that all of the artists were this aggressive; truly only a few were. Most artists were hard at work on tattoos, or politely chatting with browsers in their booths.

There were stage shows, of which I sadly missed. There were also live suspensions, which I (frankly) gladly missed. Enigma was there, but he seems to be everywhere. I did not get to speak to him, but according to my husband he seemed “very jovial” and like a “real nice guy.” From my spot on the stage at one point I could see Enigma smiling and gently cooing at a baby being rocked in her mother’s arms. The baby was smiling at him sleepily, either unaware or uncaring of the stigma attached to people who have extensive tattoos and body modification – it was touching really. There were belly dancers and sword swallowers; there was an artist painting mural-size pieces – but mostly there were booths and booths of tattoo artists.

Enigma, photo credit

I was happily unaware of the reality television shows that many of the artists came from. I honestly do not watch very much TV, and when I do it is very rarely “reality” TV. I think the scripted reality is condescending and is contributing to the dumbing down of the US. This is nothing against the artists themselves – who doesn’t want to be on TV? Who doesn’t want a shot at fame? It was good exposure for all of them, I am sure – regardless of whether they won or lost.

At one point during my tattoo a gaggle of women and girls expectantly approached the artist in the booth next to us. The kids (yes, kids!) seemed to be very enamored with him – so did their mother, to be honest. She locked eyes with me as she waited to have a picture with him, hovering over his booth like a vulture. She seemed confused that I didn’t share her enthusiasm – that I wasn’t incredibly blown away to be so close to the artist. He seemed like a nice guy – the very brief encounter that I had with him was positive, in fact. But I was concentrating on not jumping out of the chair that I was sitting in and making a run for the convention hall exit. Plus, I had never seen the show. It seemed odd to me that a tattoo artist had fangirls; I wondered what it was like for him. Did he get recognized everywhere he went? Did women who were missing teeth and who dream of him fixing up that confederate flag tattoo on their upper thigh follow him around the grocery store?

There was loud and (sometimes) bad music blasting from multiple spots on the convention floor. In one ear I would hear 90’s era Bro. Lynch, and in the other ear Journey. It was definitely a mish-mash of people. The food was reportedly bad, and far too expensive – but this is typical of convention food (so I have heard!). So far it sounds like I am complaining, but really I am not. Let me tell you the great thing about my experience at the convention- the people.

As a big girl who has always felt like an outcast, I expected to be ridiculed – shunned perhaps. I have never been one of the cool kids. I have never been one of the beautiful people. I have certainly never blended well in a crowd or been part of a group; not really. These people, all of them, were nothing but nice to me. I really don’t know what I expected. My tattoo, once finished, was entered into three separate contests. I had to stand in line with other entrants who were mostly beautiful men and women who were fit (not all were; but I was certainly the largest woman there). Not once did someone ridicule me or make fun of me; just the opposite, in fact. People in line with me were kind, excited, and funny. The judges were sweet and patient with me. My artist and her husband? Two of the nicest people I have ever met. Even the aforementioned artist in the booth next to us (from the reality show) who has a reputation for being really crass and easily angered was nothing.but.nice to me. It was amazing. I also came home with two trophies! My artist won 3^rd place in Tattoo of the Day and Best in Show. I am so proud of her! And proud of my award winning tattoo!

Myself and the beautiful and talented Jamy
at the end of a very long night! And a photobomber! =)  

Getting the tattoo itself was an entirely different experience. The moment I met my artist, Jamy, I knew I liked her. She was sweet; she had this great, beautiful smile; and she was really down to Earth. I regret that I didn’t really have the chance to talk to her too much. It was hard for me to chat while I was getting tattooed because the pain was a bit much for me. She was incredibly patient with me, and did not make me feel bad for squirming and clenching my teeth.

For some reason, when Jamy put the stencil on me, I almost passed out. My arms both went completely numb. The room started to spin. I closed my eyes and silently pleaded with myself not to pass out; not to embarrass myself. I came really close to passing out, but I endured somehow. I would love to know what caused it. Anxiety from being out in a crowd? Instinctual panic; something left over from my years of being abused? If she noticed my hesitation, she was kind enough not to comment on it.

Naturally, the tattoo hurt, and that pain increased as time went on. As I said before, I have tattoos. I used to actually enjoy getting tattooed; I even developed somewhat of an addiction to it. I can clearly remember sleeping through most of the touch-up work on the portrait of my leg. This was different – so very different. Jamy had what I would call a light hand; she was, for lack of a better term, quite gentle. Her machine was incredibly quiet; it was far superior to the machines that I was accustomed to. Her hand moved expertly and carefully across my back as she worked. The extra pain had nothing to do with Jamy, and everything to do with the location of my tattoo. The back is an intense place to get tattooed, and I learned that well at the convention.

Before I went to the convention, I expected something wild; something really crazy – like a kind of tattoo themed Burning Man, or something. The reality was a loud, but low-key gathering of amazing artists and tattoo fans. If you are looking for great food or music, this is probably not the kind of convention you are looking for. If you are looking to get an amazing piece of permanent artwork on you, this is exactly the type of convention you want to go to. I highly suggest doing a little leg-work ahead of time and researching the artists who will be at the show. Look at their portfolios; send them an email and let them know that you are interested in getting a tattoo. Many of these artists book up pretty quickly, so the likelihood of walking in to the convention and getting a tattoo by your artist of choice without an appointment is slim.

Me taking a much needed break
after the outline. Some incredibly
clean linework!

Also, and this is an unwritten rule, but think about the tattoo you are getting and what you can do to make the process more efficient and comfortable for both your artist and you. For example, if you are getting a tattoo on your leg and you have very hairy legs, shave the area before you go. Facilities are not optimal for shaving at these conventions. Keep in mind that good hygiene is important, and convention halls are sweaty. Noone wants to be in close quarters with someone with extreme swamp ass. Finally, wear clothing that will grant to artist access to the area. I happened to have a shirt with a low-cut back that was just the right size for the tattoo. If you are getting a tattoo in your thigh, it’s probably a bad idea to wear skinny jeans (it’s always a bad idea to wear skinny jeans, just so you know.)

If you want to see if the tour I attended is coming to your city, you can check on that here.

Or, if you would like to see where Jamy and her husband Pete (who is easily one of the best portrait tattooist I have ever seen) will be touring soon, or check out their portfolios, you can do that on Facebook here. Happy inking! 

The finished tattoo. Truly a work of art!