Chapter Two � Early Sketches

 

Chapter Two – Early Sketches

 

            A few days after receiving the note, I had made arrangements to meet with the tattoo shop’s owner. I had known of him for many years, though not personally, from growing up in my small town. His reputation had preceded him as coming from a rather rough background from the bad end of town, as well as his excellent drawing abilities. But, to those that knew him well, he was simply called Cheech.

            Cheech was an old-school biker by choice and design. He would often wear dark blue work pants and an accompanying Harley-Davidson t-shirt (as well as matching Harley-Davidson motorcycle he would ride if the weather would allow it, an older Monte Carlo if it did not) along with a headband to complete the look of biker/mechanic. He always wore glasses as he had done so since youth, and his face was adorned with a scruffy goatee, with a few stray grey hairs stippling his chin. The stub of cigarillo would often hang from his lips, and he’d often smell of sweet cigars and vanilla. His long wallet, often chained to his belt, complimented the black leather engineer’s boots he almost always wore (except when tattooing, when he’d usually change into regular running shoes). Weather permitting, he’d almost always wear his battered leather jacket to complete the ensemble.

            He would often appear tired, as the demands of the day job, family, home, a never-ending train of car repairs (both at work and at home for his friends and family) would have decidedly taken a toll on any working man. But for those few hours a day when in his shop, Cheech was a thoughtful and determined soul, his vigour renewed at the prospect of pushing ink. He had a subtle sense of humour, matched with a vocal pessimism for most things except those things nearest and dearest to him: family, cars, motorcycles, music, and tattoos. We both shared similar tastes in music, always important in any friendship (as everything I’ve learned about society, I learned in high school). Having both grown up in similar familiar surroundings, with the same school and neighbours growing up, we had a camaraderie. Having a passion for drawing that we both shared, we eventually had a friendship.

He was working as a mechanic by day, and had a few months beforehand, decided to take his tattooing skills he had attained out of his house (apparently, to the relief of his then wife and new family and pit bull to have space liberated in their house) and into a business setting. Having done so, he had now found the need for another artist in his shop, due to his own time constraints as well as seeking another source of income for the shop. He had at that time one other artist, but, for reasons that had never been fully explained, he felt the need to seek out another person to whom he could teach his skills and work at his shop.

He had a small shop in the city of Port Colborne, Ontario, a few miles south from where we lived in Welland. There is something romantic about tattooing in port city: the obvious tie between the maritime surroundings and tattoos seem to go hand in hand, as most imagine sailors with tattooed sleeves bristling with weathered tattoos, the inked designs flexing and stretching with each muscle straining to work. As well, the working-class constituted most of the populace of Port Colborne, and most were enthusiasts easily willing to submit their flesh to the needle.

He explained to me on our first meeting that he wished to take me on as an apprentice, as he was familiar with me from our youth, as well as being familiar with my drawing abilities. In retrospect, I realize how great this was for me as very few other tattooists I know have been offered this kind of opportunity, and usually have to go out and seek it for themselves. But even then, I knew that this would at the very least be a way for me to perhaps use some of the skills and education I had received in college, and find a way to utilize them. I accepted the offer.

We spent the first few weeks and months in the process of my apprenticeship: the mechanics of a tattoo machine were explained, techniques were shown to me, tasks and chores were allotted to me, and, more than anything else, I drew. I simplify this process for brevity’s sake, but let me assure you, it was an intensive and concentrated effort on my part.

Towards what I would later realize would be the tail end of my apprenticeship, about six months later, Cheech announced that we would be moving the shop to Welland, where we both resided. A tattoo shop that had been open there had recently closed, leaving no other tattoo shops in town. Since we were both from Welland, and we also had many more prospective customers there, the decision to move was and inevitability. A few weeks later, we were in a new location with a new perspective to boot. As well, I was beginning to actually handle and use a tattoo machine, and, finally, working on skin. Around this time, we were also experiencing a flood of business, being that we were “new kids on the block” and the reputation that both Cheech and I had on our friends as “good draw-ers” meant that demand for us and our talents had increased. I had hardly done my first few tattoos on skin when Cheech informed me that it had become necessary for me to help out by doing some small and fairly simple tattoos on people. He had watched my progress as I worked with tattoos, and felt that I could handle it, as well as to the shop’s coffers.

Though I was slightly unsure of myself and abilities, I accepted this to be my fate, and began to do tattoos. I was also to be paid for the work I did, based on a percentage of what the tattoo cost. Though I was certainly limited to the types of tattoos I could do, for all practical purposes, my basic apprenticeship was over.

We had moved into Welland into a new shop that occupied a larger space, and were glad to be moved out of the closet we had previously worked out of. I had almost forgotten to mention that the name of the shop was Skin Graphics, a name that would last a few years, and would again resurface later in my life as bookends to my early tattooing. Our first year there had been fruitful and eventful for me, both because of tattooing and other events that occurred in my life.

I was slowly making progress as a tattooist as well as watching our shop slowly, but surely, grow. I had become very familiar with the shop and all its tasks, often finding myself wholly responsible for many of the duties, as Cheech was juggling his work and home life as well as tattooing. As well, by doing this, and being at the shop most times of most days, I also become rather conspicuous in our town as the go-to guy for tattoos in the city. Though my skills were limited, I endeavoured to do and perform more, and to push myself whole-heartedly into my new passion.

After about six months or so in Welland, we had grown a reputation for being very adept as tattooists and reputable as a shop. We were beginning to enjoy our social status as local celebrities, and I was enjoying my own popularity. Suddenly, I was invited to many parties and events, welcomed into many of the town’s social cliques, and I found myself becoming more and more sociable, something I had always had awkwardness with in my teens. People wanted to hang out with me, talk to me about their ideas, and were fascinated by my occupation. More importantly, girls wanted to get dates with me, and I was tickled pink. I was in my early 20’s, and was starting to hang out at bars and clubs, so the added popularity made this prospect more appealing.

At the shop, many of kinks of re-opening in a new location had been quickly and efficiently taken care of. We had completed a number of renovation projects that had been ongoing after our opening, and things had taken shape in their final form. The major work done, we were ready to settle into a regular routine in familiar surroundings and were pleased with our efforts. Things were continuing to look up!

It was the Summer of the Dolphin, as I would later call it, as I had spent most of my first months and year tattooing many dolphin designs on many, many girls. It had recently become a very popular motif amongst female tattoos, and, being that the designs were often simple, I did almost every one that our shop produced. Besides the typical tattoo designs one would see (roses, Taz from Looney Tunes, names and banners, etc.), I would have to say that I spent almost my entire first year tattooing almost exclusively dolphin designs. I speak figuratively, but I almost could have done them blindfolded having done so many, and, to this day, I detest dolphin designs and avoid them at all cost. Though repetitive, it was a decent way to cut my teeth the first year of tattooing. I was also able to get myself a decent clientele by doing this, as many girls I had tattooed dolphins on would eventually get me to do more and different designs on them as well.

I should also mention that it was during this time that I had decided to run for public office, and, being a young s**t-disturber, I went for the number one job and threw my name ion the ring for the job of the city’s mayor. This would also help to catapult my name within the city, and, though this turn of events would lead to many adventures and entertaining anecdotes, I won’t get into details here, as it would compromise a book in itself. The epilogue of this part of the story was I didn’t win, but had achieved what I perceived to be much respect, as well as more people who wanted me to tattoo them.

I had attained what I felt to be a peak point in my early life, having decent creative work in an occupation that was slowly becoming more and more of a passion to me. I began to look at drawing, at all art, much differently, and with a fresh new perspective. My drawings were slowly developing into my own style, as opposed to copying what others had done before me. I was enjoying this new exploration into my abilities, and spent as much time as allowed at the shop. As well, tattoos, as well as body piercing, which we also performed as well at the shop, were starting to become acceptable and popular, so we were getting busy anyhow. We had created a demand for ourselves and had achieved local celebrity status. I was only looking forward, but the times ahead were not to be rosy as I might have imagined.

 

Author's Note

Chapter renamed appropriately and chapter length extended

Reviews

[Shellie]

There is a few grammar errors between this and the last chapter, but not many. Just thought you should know. My opinion on this chapter is that you are telling YOUR story but i find you talk too much about the background of 'Cheech', instead you could minimize your story on him, and develop further down where you state that you 'summarized. This part...
We spent the first few weeks and months in the process of my apprenticeship: the mechanics of a tattoo machine were explained, techniques were shown to me, tasks and chores were allotted to me, and, more than anything else, I drew. I simplify this process for brevity's sake, but let me assure you, it was an intensive and concentrated effort on my part.
As this chapter is named an apprentices tale it would be more to the point to talk more about your experiences, you dont have to tell all but just to present the hard work you put in, otherwise it looks like your apprenticeship was a pure doddle. I see why you put in about Cheech but it would be better if that was developed in a different chapter, like called' developing the friendship' or something to that effect, you would be better at choosing that. It is a good chapter dont get me wrong, thats my opinion just that you split it so you are focusing on the chapters title and your apprenticeship.