Many Stories by Sebastian Orth

Author:Sebastian Orth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sebastian Orth, Escargot-Books, tattoo, epilepsy, ink, inked, skin art, tattooing, tattoo artist, Santa Barbara, Otherworld Tattoo, body art, body suit, full body tattoo, Obscurities, hand poke
ISBN: 978-1-908191-36-6
Publisher: Escargot-Books

A spur of the moment tattoo I got at a convention

in Los Angeles, now covered up

13

The Black and Grey Dragon

Trying to hurry my tattoos along, and ending up with less than satisfactory work, was not the only telltale sign of my youth, both as an artist and as a businessman. Although I loved tattooing, and my client list was growing—as much as it could in a small town with a very minor tattoo scene—I more or less resented the side of life that required management, particularly when (in order to try to expand my tattoo world) I allowed other artists to share space with me. Managing myself was difficult; managing another person, or persons, was impossible. I was 21 years old; I wanted to have a good time doing what I loved to do. I did not want to balance books and coordinate appointments. Unfortunately, this often resulted in a chaotic atmosphere, with friends partying, people tattooing, and me trying to hold it all together.

It just did not work.

Plus, there was another factor. The tattoo world was growing quickly, with magazines, publications, conventions, and emerging artists; I felt buried beneath the minutia of running a shop in a small town. I was being left behind. Often intimidated (but trying not to show it) when someone would ask me about a particular tattoo style or artist, or about an aspect of the history of the art, I grew painfully aware that I was ignorant in many aspects of my own profession, gleaning what I did know from research done in magazines and news articles, which provided only the thin veneer of the ancient art. Worse yet, when a fifty- or sixty-year-old biker would appear for a small addition to his full sleeves, or just a walk-in chat, and begin talking about tattoo icons like Don Nolon or Paul Jefferies, I would do my best to converse like a guy who’d been around the scene but, inside, I felt like a kid.

Things didn’t feel right. I was not ready for what I had taken on. I had a philosophy, more Eastern than Western: If a path feels too difficult to walk, it may be the wrong path to take.

Maybe I should be doing something else.

So, I quit.

Closed the doors to Otherworld, packed my truck full of whatever it would hold, and took off. It’s the kind of thing you can do when you’re twenty-one, soul searching and romantic in its non-committal way. Drifting up and down the rocky coast before I settled in Morro Bay, another small town, just northwest of San Luis Obispo. It was not exactly where I pictured myself, but it was cheap and right on the ocean.

I spent a lot of time alone, sitting on the cold grey tidal flats, staring out at the bay, thinking, surfing, and drawing people and animals, landscapes and seascapes. Drawing. It was what I usually did when I was trying to reconnect with myself. It also provides inspiration for tattooing and it took only a few weeks in my new quiet world before the urge returned.

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