A Practice in Impermanence
The Wheel of Fortune.
For two years now, I experimented in seeing if I could run the shop by myself.
”Keep the ship afloat without a crew.”
Looking back.
I somehow, managed to keep the shop from closing down during the pandemic.
Yeah, me! (Shake pompoms)
Taking on debt, which I never had, to keep it open, thinking I was doing my best
to keep the lights on.
To help support myself and the others working with me during that terrifying time.
Not in a mind set just for me, but for the love of the “WE”.
My landlord graced us with half a month off at the beginning of the ordeal.
I took out a loan. The one you have to pay back.
It allowed me to carry the overheads for that critical first six months.
And then helped us get by for another year and a half.
Navigating through the weekly threats made by the state of more impending
lock-downs and other possible closures. It was a tumultuous time for all of us.
I gave back half of what I borrowed.
Thinking that was what was expected of me. And the right thing to do.
Once I felt we had started moving into some resemblance of “back to normal”.
I didn’t charge the artists rent for three months once we were able to come back to work.
Knowing they had had trouble with obtaining their unemployment to get by.
I had hoped it would help them get back on their feet.
We didn’t raise our rates to compensate for the exorbitant and ridiculous price hikes that
happened with our needed PPP and other shop supplies. Figured the shop could absorb it.
Most of those prices have still not come down.
I also structured the schedule, so we ran one artist per day.
As to not expose them or be a place to spawn an outbreak between artists or clients.
This went on for two years after the initial lock down.
I set up some extra protocols to adhere to, documenting basic vitals on each client or person
who walked through the door, while we figured out the nature of the threat at hand.
Having tattooed during the AIDS epidemic, my safety procedures were already efficiently honed for what is practical in a non-sterile environment.
Then the grand exodus of tattooers working with me moved on to greener pastures.
Just so happened, that five artists that had worked with me over the years, opened up shops that same month, in the same city. Within a couple miles of my shop.
Giving me a giant shift in my thinking and a need to restructure my long game.
Realizing, “This shit is out of control”.
I had a good sit down with my shop, meditating on what I have learned since these doors first opened.
Navigating internally, looking for a way through the present state of my trade
in search of a better way to contribute to it.
Because this formula, I was taught, wasn’t working.
Seeing clearly, my use of the old formula, was actually contributing
to the demise of this sacred art form.
Watching the churn of artists come in, grow and… leave when they felt ripened.
To go down the street to work with my competitor or to open their own shops in an already over saturated community.
I realized, I didn’t want to add to this cycle anymore.
This turning of the wheels on an over burdened gypsy wagon.
So, I decided to go it alone.
It does seem to workout for a very few shop owners I know.
Being able to benefit, a return, for investing in the folks coming into their fold.
Though, they too, report a huge turn over for the most part.
These stories are adding up around me.
I tried to figure out what it is that keeps an artist content, stimulated and loyal.
What I offered. Obviously wasn’t it.
What I learned, for myself, investing in an artist I felt had potential, with the idea that they would stick around, had become a dysfunctional practice on my part.
A form of small business suicide.
Sure, I could have stacked the room full of artists looking for a start out of the schools, moving into town trying to situate themselves off an established business, until the could find their next lily pad to bounce onto.
Crowding the space with clients feet in other clients faces.
Making it so packed that trying to walk through to the cleaning room or restroom, was a skill in it self.
And not give a fuck. But I did give a fuck.
I took on a handful.
I have no regrets for doing so.
Wanting quality over quantity.
Seeing the potential in who I hired. And giving them a place to blossom.
A stable environment to find and express themselves.
Giving them support and guidance when asked.
Sharing my years of experience, freely.
I realized after much heart break, that folks got their own interests in mind.
And sticking around to give back, to support an aging tattooer into their retirement.
Wasn’t on their bingo card.
I didn’t expect it. I had just hoped it would happen naturally.
I get it. It’s the way in which the world currently turns.
The reality of it is crushing.
There are “No Golden Years” for some of us.
Coming to grips with the ways in which I had learned, and did my best to improve upon.
The Paying it forward philosophy. Is obsolete.
So, in shifting my perspective.
I decided to take the last two years left on my lease, and turn it into an opportunity to learn.
My mind began dreaming up new pathways.
First, was to see if I could do it alone.
And another, was to see it I could figure out how to pull talent in another way, to generate
something of benefit to the surrounding community.
My grand idea to keep the wheels from falling off.
I wanted to figure out a way to use the space on the days I was not here working, to host an assortment
of continued education classes.
I reached out, emailed, called and wrote letters to folks I thought would be interested and had something unique to offer.
In hopes to generate a variety of interesting classes.
Not only to supplement more continued education options for tattooers, but to include the general public as well.
Wanting to create a buzz for the community and to feel like I was giving back to this craft in a positive way.
I had some positive feed back and a few loosely offered commitments.
I was hoping to organize an eclectic group of teachers.
To share their know how in such areas as in how to use procreate, video editing, oil painting seminars,
offer water color classes by renown flash artists and a handful of other seminars on technique oriented topics.
I wanted to have classes here, that sparked my interest and that I could learn from too.
Some of us old dogs love learning new tricks.
But, the idea never took flight or got off the ground more than with a slight shimmery flutter.
Perhaps, it will in another place and time.
Just wasn’t meant to be right now or held in this lovely space.
So, the first year, went by rather smoothly. In the beginning.
I felt liberated not having to worry about mouths being fed other than my own.
Leaving my drawings out on the drawing table. Just because I could.
Not having to clean up after anyone but my own clients and myself.
Only having to buy supplies twice a year instead of on the monthly.
There were a few perks.
Working by myself was odd.
But I was already primed from working by myself during the covid period.
I made the most of it.
Playing music to suit my clients interests.
Sharing favored musicians between us during our time together and rocking out was super fun.
Having uncensored debates in hopes to reach some common understandings and
to learn from each other. And expand our limited perspectives.
I love having deep conversations with my clients.
Exploring all kinds of topics that stimulate our minds.
Having human contact and connection.
I had fun. I did.
Then…I started noticing my regulars were dropping off heading into the winter.
It started around October of last year.
This gave me alarm to what might be coming down the pipeline.
And curious as to what was happening in the community around me.
I started reaching out to other business owners I know.
Cafe, restaurant, bar owners, other tattooers to get a read on what was going on in our community.
Not just locally but abroad as well.
The feed back was kinda grim.
Folks I spoke with were reporting a fifty percent loss in cash sales, and that most people
found their clients were using credit cards that were near to maxed out.
Racking up their credit cards to about ninety percent.
Using them to pay bills and treat themselves to some normalcy.
Even with the threat of higher interest rates weighing down on them.
I have survived two major recessions, an epidemic and a pandemic now during my time as a tattooer.
This felt different.
The after math of the pandemic was hitting me and some others I know hard.
And the state of the economy seemed to get worse by the day.
Everything was costing more. And near the point of unmanageable.
I started seeing folks get on their social media platforms and try to calm others down with sharing
their own experiences of having gone through similar times as myself in the past, being tattooers.
And expressed what they were seeing.
I also saw folks start making info commercials trying to draw in clients.
I hope it worked for them. They made me cringe.
Seeing folks go into survival mode.
The consensus among my peers that I met up with, came to the same conclusion, that consolidation was the course to take.
Down sizing, rather than expanding. Minimize overheads and financial debt where possible.
And some of us, have made the change in our direction heeding the external warnings.
I tried to find a unicorn to come share overheads with me.
But that didn’t work out.
With the current economical state of affairs.
Even my limited overheads became too much to bare or were too much for another to commit to.
I may have been able to have kept Fortune’s Wheels going.
I did my best to be frugal.
What cost me considerably, was those who pulled the no shows, last minute cancellations on day of and last minute rescheduling.
One or two of these a month was hard enough to scramble filling.
But it increasingly became more frequent.
And after a handful of full weekends back to back with half day appointments going ghost on me.
I just wasn’t able to recuperate from the loss.
Hard to keep mad at these folks too. Knowing, most are struggling to keep themselves from sinking.
It is what it is.
So, at the end of the first year, going into last winter.
I found myself adding to my covid debt with over twenty-two thousand dollars in loss of income without any safety net.
Having already added more days to my monthly schedule to compensate
for not having other artists here.
It wasn’t enough, when there isn’t enough work coming in to fill them or cover the other losses.
Living tattoo to tattoo. Holding my breath opening my emails daily in fear of seeing my day canceled.
The water starts to rise and the feeling of drowning becomes more of a possibility.
Spring did bounce back for those few months.
But not enough to pull me out of the debt that has become my sinking ship.
So, before heading into this coming winter.
I have made the most bittersweet decision to shut down my beloved shop and let her fade into obscurity.
It is a bittersweet experience.
The experiment has been successful.
I went into it wanting to honor my commitment to my lease and to see what I would learn
from being here as the world threw me each hurdle along the way.
The thought of closing her, was an option from the start of this lesson.
And has now come to fruition.
I am at once grieving the loss of this beautiful space and at the same time, excited to be rid of it.
As much joy as I have received from working here and it being a propitious endeavor for 15years.
I really am excited to not be a boss or have the burden of being an owner anymore and to get back to being just one of the crew.
In letting her go.
Thank you for every single person that helped raise her up, contributed and that helped keep the doors open all these years.
She entertained and nurtured quite a few wonderful human beings.
We made some beautiful artwork together.
Vibrantly.
Picasso the mustang stallion
