This is me, Hulking Out. |
Something is happening in my world right now that is catching fire a little and I'm not prepared for it. As a result, you may have followed a link to this blog hoping to read a post about tattoos. Please know that there IS one, but this isn't exactly it at the moment.
Bottom line: I've been trying to make sense of a topic that explodes my head every time I think on it (if you're an artist, too, you might know what I mean....). And the more I let my thoughts vomit out and collect, the more I realize that sifting through the mess to make them coherent is gonna take some serious time....
What started my latest little meltdown was this: I shared a sketch online recently and received some positive comments, one of them being along the lines of, "This would make a great tattoo! Would you mind?" And I kind of fell apart inside....
It's not the first time I've been told that about a design of mine (it seriously happens almost daily). And it wasn't the request itself that put me into a tailspin (someone actually ASKED; how rare is that??). It's the sudden tsunami of feelings -- mostly negative -- that crash down on me now whenever I hear or read or write the word.
I get that the fad of tattooing has exploded spectacularly and that we can expect the fall-out to continue for eons; it's not going away or dying down anytime soon, probably not even in my lifetime. But I don't want my work to be dragged into it (oops -- too late!*), at least not until I can wrap my head around the idea. It just gives me the heebie-jeebies. Still not 100% sure why, exactly, which is why I'm exploring my thoughts from all sides.
The first thing I think to do when forced to face the equation of 'my work + tattoos' is to quit drawing completely and start sculpting instead. (Anyone who knows me knows that this is impossible.) Then I start thinking of erasing myself, my blog, my Facebook pages, my website -- everything -- from the Internet. (Turns out, that really IS impossible....) And then I think, "Dang it, I'll tear up my Fest contract just so I won't Hulk Out inside and get an ulcer everytime someone says the 'T' word to my face." THAT one seems almost do-able.
My rant for the moment, though, is how I manage to get sucked into it anyway, sometimes even without my knowledge or permission. And I tell you what: there's nothing like being completely surprised by the reveal of one of your designs inked permanently on someone's body. It'll do a number on your day, that's for sure. And guess what? You are partly responsible, so get used to it; better quickly figure out a way to give it a positive spin or you'll get to THIS point.
(*Deep cleansing breaths....*)
I said this wasn't the post. My real post is far bigger. Only right now it's so all-over-the-map that it'll take me some time to hone it and edit it and make it even vaguely almost marginally understandable.
But if THIS post gets you thinking at all or gets you interested in further thoughts or possibly a dialogue, stay tuned, 'k? Because there's more where this came from.
And -- I may even have hit upon a solution. And for that I can't be more grateful for the kindness of fans. (Thank YOU -- y'all know who you are -- for helping me see all facets of this issue.)
~delayne.
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*P.S.: There are tattoos of my work out there that were inked with my complete permission. As much as I still can't figure out why you'd want to mark yourselves with my work (you need no embellishments, sweeties; you're beautiful just as you are), I'm honored by the requests and still very much appreciate the monetary compensation. I wish all my tattoo-obsessed fans were like you.
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