11/04/2025
Reflection.
It’s wild how real reflection is one of the hardest things to sit with. When I first met Misty, I was in a completely different place.
We met back in 2022.
I had just come home from Alaska after taking a long break, trying to pick up the pieces from a bad business breakup that led me into even worse decisions. I gave up my private studio. I gave up what felt like my purpose.
Deep down, during that whole COVID-era rush of success, I knew what I built wasn’t earned. It wasn’t authentic. I didn’t know who I was yet — I was just copying what I thought my heroes and “successful artists” were doing. I was driven by ego, by the glitter, by the illusion.
Around that time, I left a well-known shop and joined Dark Arts. That’s where Misty and I first planned her sleeve. We tattooed Ghostface and Pennywise on her upper arm — right at the beginning of my three-year commitment to working strictly in black and grey after five years of doing color.
I remember finishing her tattoo, taking my photos and videos, wrapping her up and thinking,
“Yeah… this one’s gonna blow up. She’s definitely coming back.”
But I didn’t hear from Misty again for three years.
Now fast forward — it’s July 11th, 2025.
My first tattoo since my stroke in late June… and just eight days after having cancer cut out of me.
I can feel pain when I breathe. My arm is sore. My speech still slurs.
And I’m afraid.
I’m preparing myself, knowing I am not the same person I was.
Misty walks in. We look at the old tattoo. We talk design.
And in the conversation, I learn about her husband’s passing… and it hits me that she isn’t the same person she once was either.
In that moment, I hear it clearly in my head:
What I’m doing isn’t just for me.
It’s for the people I serve.
It’s about being of service, not feeding ego.
Every tattoo I’ve done since hers has been done from that place — service over selfishness, purpose over pride.
Here’s to finding purpose.
Here’s to the service.
Here’s to the journey.