i finally finished my dad's dragon tattoo... there is an image of the artwork in with the rest of my photos if anyone would like to see it.
he asked me to do it two months ago... dad's still living out his adolescent fantasies, still trying to stay young despite his fifty-six years (he had his eyes done last week without telling anyone). he already has a couple different marine core tattoos he got when he was in 'nam. his usmc panther has faded into an uncomprehensible mess, but the old-school butterfly on the opposite arm is still fluttering away.
it was a moment of weakness, when i agreed to draw it up. he told me some convulted story about some backwoods tweaker drawing him up a tattoo design of a dragon that he was going to get on his arm... the trouble was that although he liked the design, he didn't trust some guy working out of a garage with applying something to his body that was supposed to last forever. he's under the influence, as usual, telling me his story, and it's amazing to me that it never occurred to him to ask me to draw it... does he even remember that i went to art school, that i have a shitty bachelor's degree in graphic arts, that this is the exact type of thing i do for a living? the tweaker wouldn't give him the artwork unless he let him do the tat, so after i reminded him i was a very capable yet unaccomplished artist, he asked me to do it.
it was then that the phone calls began... about every other day or so, he would call me and ask me if it was done yet... "no" i'd reply... i had other paying projects that i had to complete first, but i was working on it, i was devoting time to it that i could be using to concentrate on other things, like getting my website up and running, or getting paid. "but the other guy drew it up in 15 minutes, complete with color," he'd complain. "well, i'm not a tweaker, dad, and i've never tried to draw a dragon before (so cut me some gawddamn slack)!"
he'd still call incessantly, and then call me again when he sobered up because he had no memory of our earlier drunken conversation. to get him off my back i'd talk about it with him, ask him about what style he wanted, what way it should be presented, what color, etc. he'd say " i want a dragon on my upper left shoulder" and i'd ask, "eastern or western style dragon?" and he'd be like, "wha'?" and then, i'd have to explain the intricacies between the two. "oh, i don't want one of those snake looking ones... i want like a bruce lee style dragon." i think my neighbors could actually hear me repeatedly slapping my own forehead through the sheetrocked walls.
i don't know why he wanted a stupid dragon anyway, but i always wanted to try and make one, and really, it did come out pretty good (total project time was about two-and-a-half weeks, stupid scales)... i was half-joking when i told my friends that even though i had worked so hard on it, i was pretty sure he wouldn't like it, but i was right. when i faxed him the lineart he was all, "meh." it wasn't what he expected, and i wasted weeks doing it for free.
now he says that it was just his initial impression, and that it doesn't look like bart simpson, and the design has grown on him a lot, and that now, he's gonna get it just because i drew it... it pisses me off that the only reason he says he likes it is because he knew it made me upset, and i especially don't want him to get it permenantly tattooed on his body as a constant reminder of settling for less.
i'm not scared of criticism, i welcome it, as it helps me get further with my work. i offered to talk to him about it at length and let me know what i could do to fix it for him, and at first he seemed interested but now it's all forgotten. his stupid, only child didn't go above and beyond to please him, and it pisses him off. it pisses him off that he isn't the center of my universe, that he was too busy doing whatever it was that he wanted to do when i was growing up instead of speding time with me, and now it's too late, trying in vain to make up for lost time. i'm older and disinterested, out-of-breath and still out-of-place...
it pisses me off that i'm so brainwashed, that some small part of me still tries really hard to please him even though i know any of my efforts are doomed.
-bobby
he asked me to do it two months ago... dad's still living out his adolescent fantasies, still trying to stay young despite his fifty-six years (he had his eyes done last week without telling anyone). he already has a couple different marine core tattoos he got when he was in 'nam. his usmc panther has faded into an uncomprehensible mess, but the old-school butterfly on the opposite arm is still fluttering away.
it was a moment of weakness, when i agreed to draw it up. he told me some convulted story about some backwoods tweaker drawing him up a tattoo design of a dragon that he was going to get on his arm... the trouble was that although he liked the design, he didn't trust some guy working out of a garage with applying something to his body that was supposed to last forever. he's under the influence, as usual, telling me his story, and it's amazing to me that it never occurred to him to ask me to draw it... does he even remember that i went to art school, that i have a shitty bachelor's degree in graphic arts, that this is the exact type of thing i do for a living? the tweaker wouldn't give him the artwork unless he let him do the tat, so after i reminded him i was a very capable yet unaccomplished artist, he asked me to do it.
it was then that the phone calls began... about every other day or so, he would call me and ask me if it was done yet... "no" i'd reply... i had other paying projects that i had to complete first, but i was working on it, i was devoting time to it that i could be using to concentrate on other things, like getting my website up and running, or getting paid. "but the other guy drew it up in 15 minutes, complete with color," he'd complain. "well, i'm not a tweaker, dad, and i've never tried to draw a dragon before (so cut me some gawddamn slack)!"
he'd still call incessantly, and then call me again when he sobered up because he had no memory of our earlier drunken conversation. to get him off my back i'd talk about it with him, ask him about what style he wanted, what way it should be presented, what color, etc. he'd say " i want a dragon on my upper left shoulder" and i'd ask, "eastern or western style dragon?" and he'd be like, "wha'?" and then, i'd have to explain the intricacies between the two. "oh, i don't want one of those snake looking ones... i want like a bruce lee style dragon." i think my neighbors could actually hear me repeatedly slapping my own forehead through the sheetrocked walls.
i don't know why he wanted a stupid dragon anyway, but i always wanted to try and make one, and really, it did come out pretty good (total project time was about two-and-a-half weeks, stupid scales)... i was half-joking when i told my friends that even though i had worked so hard on it, i was pretty sure he wouldn't like it, but i was right. when i faxed him the lineart he was all, "meh." it wasn't what he expected, and i wasted weeks doing it for free.
now he says that it was just his initial impression, and that it doesn't look like bart simpson, and the design has grown on him a lot, and that now, he's gonna get it just because i drew it... it pisses me off that the only reason he says he likes it is because he knew it made me upset, and i especially don't want him to get it permenantly tattooed on his body as a constant reminder of settling for less.
i'm not scared of criticism, i welcome it, as it helps me get further with my work. i offered to talk to him about it at length and let me know what i could do to fix it for him, and at first he seemed interested but now it's all forgotten. his stupid, only child didn't go above and beyond to please him, and it pisses him off. it pisses him off that he isn't the center of my universe, that he was too busy doing whatever it was that he wanted to do when i was growing up instead of speding time with me, and now it's too late, trying in vain to make up for lost time. i'm older and disinterested, out-of-breath and still out-of-place...
it pisses me off that i'm so brainwashed, that some small part of me still tries really hard to please him even though i know any of my efforts are doomed.
-bobby
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Looks like this is a bit old...hope it worked out.
-D