sophos

i live in a slum, albeit a relatively safe one, with some weird older dudes and a frat boy. the neighborhood is fairly evenly split between university and graduate students and older, rougher dudes. one of these older guys, it seems, is a somewhat accomplished tattoo artist. a friend and i met him at a block party a couple weeks ago and we hit it off when he found out that i know who paul newman is. he took us back to his studio to have a look around.

a little bit about him: he made life rough for himself up until recently. he got into substances at a young age and spent time in prison. after getting out, he met a lawyer who cleaned him up and moved him here to chapel hill. he has been drawing since he was a kid and he got into tattooing shortly after relocating. i think he sees himself as a bit of a sage, as he was not shy about offering up life advice. mostly, his advice went like this: step 1: find a successful woman. step 2: have her pay for your expenses. his assumption that things will continue to go well for him without any effort on his part is a dangerous one, but i wish him luck. his place is excellent. the room is cramped and the walls are covered in show fliers, while his bathroom walls are papered with dali prints and bdsm pinups.

as far as his tattoos go, well, skulls seem to be a recurring motif. also he draws breasts. he likes to do that. glamorized death doesn't do anything for me, but if he is to be believed, his work is highly sought after. he showed us one design that appeared to be six skulls arranged in a pile, but upon closer inspection there turned out to be seven skulls. there was another one that we saw with eleven skulls. it seems that eleven is the maximum number you can put in a tattoo. any more than that and you risk oversaturation.