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Tomorrow I'm going to a tattoo convention, and I am nervous for basically no reason. Because let's be frank, Anchorage is not a huge metro with a big draw (I think this is the first of this particular franchise convention in Anchorage - you know, where they drag up their stable of inkmaster contestants like proto-celebrity zoo animals - so who knows how much local talent will show because I think there is a more established convention in August that shops might prefer to invest in, and as the first one it's likely to be a shitshow) and the odds of me having any kind of meaningful interaction are ... low. But I'm going to see who shows up from the local scene and with luck, one of the supply companies will be up and maybe I can replenish some stuff - maybe get a solid arm rest. Because the good supply companies won't let you order if you don't have proof of working in a shop, but the workaround is they'll sell to anyone at conventions and that's how scratchers can get their hands on the good shit. I think I can probably still order off the websites I've established an account with, but then there's Alaska shipping fun to deal with and that could mean $$ for bulky, heavy stuff, if they'll even try.
I'm debating getting a color print of my little portfolio of finished work. But I don't know what's sadder - going to the trouble of having something in hand to show and then showing no one, or not preparing at all and then actually having an opening and not having anything. Ugh! I'm proud of the work I did, but there were some big gaps in my apprenticeship and I don't feel like a very well rounded student. I didn't work in a walk-in street shop, I worked in an appointment-only custom shop, so I'm weak on things that would be most apprentices' bread and butter because my mentor had me doing large multi-session work from the get-go (I trusted my mentor at the time but in retrospect ... what was he thinking? Money, that's what he was thinking. As the shop owner he got 50% and he had habits to pay for.). I guess it's easy to magnify your weaknesses when you're anxious. Shit, I'm awful, who will want to bring me on when I didn't learn blah blah blah? And how do I talk about my mentor when I don't want to drag him but truthfully he was an unstable functional alcoholic and made the learning environment kinda shit? (Not that I think this will come as a surprise - very common to have mentor drama.)
Fuck, I have to remember to shave my legs, just in case I need to drop trou and show the work I did on myself.
So I'm anxious. Spouse and his brother are planning on going too, and I kind of wish they weren't. One, they might get me into an interaction I'm not prepared for because they don't understand the work culture of tattooing and I'll look like a goober if they talk me up and I can't back it up. Two, what's cool to a layperson and cool to a practitioner can be vastly different, and I don't want to tell spouse & BIL they have garbage tattoo taste. Also I don't give a shit about the celebrity artists - I'm here for the locals. Also tattoo conventions are a miserable disgusting place to actually get tattooed. My mentor pre-booked his convention slots weeks/months in advance. He left some open space, but it was preferable for him to look busy and booked up in the booth so he didn't leave it up to chance (also he was stressed out, super drunk/hungover for the whole thing and famously he and his girlfriend would get in a raging breakup fight by the end of the event - he was bonkers). So people thinking they can just show up and pick their artist for a tattoo are weeks behind the curve already. Also, getting tattooed on hard folding convention chairs and tables with makeshift setups is guaranteed to be a third class experience. If you're lucky the artist might have a nice portable tattoo bed. But convention booths by nature are going to be uncomfortable and gross compared to a shop experience.
So yeah, if you want to get tattooed in a filthy uncomfortable fishbowl environment with whatever your artist remembered to bring when they're probably stressed out to the max and likely to be hungover from partying until the wee hours ... sure, go for it. Makes for a good story, and sometimes a good story makes the tattoo. I've also seen amazing convention work - one of the shop artists got a traditional styled peacock feather on his scalp and it was fast and gorgeous.
Conventions are still fun for people watching and checking out artist portfolios. Sometimes the booths are eclectic and they'll have taxidermied animals and gothy shit. Jewelry for gauged ears or odd piercings. Geek stuff is popular. And I'm hoping for a supply booth.
I've hurt my right arm somehow. Okay, I know how I did it. I bought this large ceramic pitcher because pitchers are cool. It holds 2 quarts. I've been using it to make drink mix (so spouse drinks less soda). It's very heavy when it's full and I've been muscling it in and out of the fridge one handed. Apparently I strained my hand/forearm doing that, and then even when it hurt I kept doing things to aggravate the area, like gripping and lifting heavy things one handed and cutting thick materials with snips. Then I went and dug up some flower beds and moved some rocks around and now my whole right arm is unhappy from shoulder blade to wrist. :-( I've had to chill out on my gardening plans to let it recover some. House projects have been on hold while we focus on yardwork, because I need to get plants and seeds in the ground asap so they have enough growing time before winter. I'm not getting too fancy, but the grass is overgrowing some of the beds and it takes work to rip it out so I can plant. Now I've got half the grass removed in patches and it looks terrible. All I want to do is get out there and finish the work, but my arm says no.
I started a bunch of seeds and they're doing way better than expected. One packet of seeds goes a long way! I'm going to have a lot of cosmos and snapdragons to plant. I fastened window boxes to the chain link fence and planted morning glory seeds - I'm hoping to have better luck than last year, when I put seeds down late and just when the little vines were getting blooms, spouse absolutely destroyed them all with the weed whacker. See, can't run them over if they're in a basket *taps forehead*. I found bare root poppies and hollyhocks at walmart, of all places, so I planted those. I got a pet playpen made out of 8 wire panels, split it into two 4 panel section and then set them up as two composting bins in the space behind the shed. The idea is we dump yard waste and kitchen veggie waste in the composting bins and next spring, we have good dirt for the garden. Last year I did almost nothing in the yard and watched what came up - at least now I know what the common weeds look like. Mostly I want to establish some beds for next year and move some rocks around. I'm planting some stuff to see how it does, but I'm not putting much money into it. You could spend a shitton of money on plants and dirt. Next year we may plant some trees ($$) and we'll see what flowers come back. I want hollyhocks and columbine and lupine and poppies of all sorts and snapdragons, but I am not sure what will grow in our soil. There's a lot of rocks - I feel like the soil quality is questionable. I've never really gardened before so I have my fingers crossed.
Cat thinks my raised garden bed is a giant poop box all for him. He's going to be super mad when I fence it off. I've got some lettuce and kale seeds to plant in there.
Oof, anyway. I'm still nervous about this convention, and I guess it's not so much the event but taking the step back into getting a professional life. I just feel fat and gimpy and out of practice. I've realized lately I really miss being accomplished at something. Like you go to work and you do a good job and you get that reward of feeling competent, building skill and being recognized for it. I used to have that. I used to be really good at what I did for a paycheck. I've just been making shit up doing this house project stuff and I don't even know if it matters. Nobody's going to tell me my paint scheme is ugly and my shelves look like a cub scout's first woodworking project. Spouse never complains about the food I make.
I'm trying to leave room for surprise and opportunity, but I'm just a garden variety introvert overthinker perfectionist. The more anxious I am, the harder it is to not anticipate. Mentally I know I have a number of things working against me. Rationally speaking, I'm kinda fucked, right? So it's easy to fast forward to the end conclusion and make the "logical" decision to not waste resources on small hopes. Such-and-such is the most likely outcome, so therefore it is what will happen. Maybe it's the big brain smart adult choice, but it's also void of the magic of the unexpected.
I wish I felt more ready. I wish the house was all in order and I had a portfolio I felt confident about. It's a mirage, though. I'll never be "ready". "Ready" just means having all the widgets in place such that you feel confident that your risk isn't a risk at all.