We have received quite a reaction to one of our featurettes. Initially designed as a gentle ribbing of tattooists whose egos sometimes dwell in the clouds and, artistically, "do no wrong," recent installments, while applauded by the general readership, have been vilified by the tattooists and especially the friends of tattooists whose work has been dubbed Just Awful. Yes, friends, we got hate mail.

When photos are sent to our Readers' Gallery, there is often a short, handwritten note telling us how wonderful SKIN&INK is and what an honor it would be to be featured in our "awesome publication." But, as soon as we, with total objectivity, pluck their photo from the dozens and dozens scattered, face up, on our tabletop and place it in the Just Awful file, we get a new letter telling us we are purposely trying to ruin careers, don't know what we are talking about and should resign from our jobs for having any opinion other than 100 percent awe and admiration. The same kind if admiration, no doubt, the friends and clients of the artists have showered on them, without hesitation, for the past months or years.

In a current communication (see Letters to the Editor), we were admonished to remember that reputations are on the line. It's as if, by allowing their photo to be plucked from the other applicants' work like a pebble from a bag of rice, we are damaging the name and livelihood of the tattooists in question. We are, they suggest, significantly responsible for the very food on their tables and the cute little shoes on their babies' tiny feet. Then, why, please tell me, do artists who are attempting to make their mark send sub-par work to an international tattoo publication? Why do they send mediocre artwork, rip-offs of other people's tattoos, designs that have been seen a thousand times before or half-baked copies off someone else's sheet of flash? Sure, the colors stay within the lines, but isn't that what our kindergarten teacher said to us, when first we were handed a set of Crayons? Isn't art more than simply "staying within the lines?" Isn't it about spirit, artistic ability, innovation and transcendence? And how can someone who doesn't demonstrate a teaspoon of imagination, technique or innovation criticize other artists who thrive on breaking down barriers and challenging the accepted way of doing things?

Not every tattoo is perfect. Not in a real world, anyway. There's a lot of great tattoo art, but there is also a lot that's bad . So when we receive a photo that causes us to wonder, "What the heck is it?" or "Is someone actually wearing that on their body for the rest of their lives?," I believe we have an obligation to draw a line in the sand and say, "Enough is enough."

I receive criticism all the time. Always have. You know why? I'm an artist. I create things. I write words, I generate images, I invent music, the whole lot. Some is applauded. Some gets the raspberry. You know what I do with the praise? I say, "Thank you," and move on. You know what I do with the negative criticism? I say, "Thank you," and move on." Hopefully, I learn from both. Just as there's a kernel of truth in the praise (although somewhat deceiving in its importance, at times), there is also a kernel of truth in the criticism. It's up to me to discern which is which, learn from both, and grow.

I figured out a long time ago that I'm not entitled to anything, and the moment I feel the world owes me a living, I'm headed down the bumpy path of self-delusion. So, to all you tattooists out there who want to get your name out and make a positive contribution to the artistic community, humble yourselves and treat with respect anyone who tells you the truth. Even if you don't like it. If that particular attribute is not in your repertoire, you're deluding yourself. Learn from criticism and rejection. Nobody publishes your artwork? Keep drawing and get better. Think you're world-class, just because some tattoo convention sold you a booth? Hey, the convention business ain't what it used to be. There were empty booths and they needed your money. Win a trophy? Congratulations. They make fantastic door stops.

So, what's the lesson here? Easy. It's art. Keep pushing the envelope. Remember to keep on course and don't turn away the people who call it like they see it—they're too hard to come by.

Bob Baxter
Editor in Chief

baxter@skin&ink.com
www.skinandink.com