Posted on July 29, 2015
Posted on July 24, 2015
Posted on July 20, 2015
“Now I want a tattoo as well. But like, I just want exactly what you got.”
Just like every other adolescent who was into rock/puck music, I’ve wanted a tattoo since I was about 11 years old. I went through countless ideas: The lyrics to ‘Wish You Were Here’ by Pink Floyd, music notes, a feather gradually turning into a thousand little birds flying off into the distance. So, erm, a lot of ideas that lacked originality that I probably would have regretted (this is probably why 11 year olds can’t get tattoos).
So why a flower?
I’ve known I’d eventually get a flower for a number of years now. I just like floral imagery, simple as that. The meaning of a tattoo isn’t necessarily in the image itself. The meaning is in the time of your life that it marks, the thoughts you had leading up to the tattoo, and the process of being tattooed as a physical experience. I got this tattoo to mark what has been the most interesting time of my life so far (the end of a seven year relationship, almost fleeing to Australia to work on a farm, coming to understand myself more deeply, connecting with someone new). And every time I look at it, I’m reminded of all the choices I made, and that I’m moving in a good direction.
So why this specific flower?
It’s a pretty meaningless flower. I didn’t want something with a lot of baggage. A red poppy signifies loss of life during WW1. A purple poppy apparently signifies the loss of animal lives in war times. I couldn’t find any particular meaning attached to the blue poppy. I like that I can look at it and just think about what it means to me.
I’ve had a couple of friends tell me they want a tattoo now. But not just any tattoo, they want my tattoo, and that’s a pretty cool feeling. And thus began the imaginary Cult of the Blue Poppy.
I got this tattoo at Chronic Ink in Toronto, Ontario from Tegan Rush. It was an awesome experience from start to finish.
Posted on July 18, 2015
I have a secret: I rarely like my finished work more than my work-in-progress.
There’s this state midway between the start and completion of a project where everything is magical. You see all the potential that this piece can be, and in its unfinished state it just embodies something raw and awesome.
And then I feel I overwork it. And while it looks polished and finished, the magic, at least from my perspective, vanishes.
I can count the completed works that still manage to retain that special something on one hand, and there is only one piece I can truly say is “done” to the point that I never look at it and think “I could change this a little bit…”
My biggest artistic struggle is leaving the art alone.
Posted on July 12, 2015
Revisiting old work tends to bring about totally new ways of thinking about it. I abandoned the image above years ago because I decided that it lacked impact and originality. Looking at it again years later, I’ve sort of warmed to it. I began this image at the same time as the Studies series. Both were approaching the same topic, but ultimately I thought the approach in Studies suited the concept best. The veil in this image seemed to make a heavy-handed commentary about marriage, which wasn’t a direction I was interested in going. Now though, I feel this evokes a different message about womanhood that I’m interested in pursuing further.