60 bucks little man, put that $H|+ in my hand.

My first real client was Brooke. I didn’t even have a shop yet — I was still tattooing out of my house. (Unless the health department is reading this… in which case, absolutely not. What? Who said that? Definitely not me.)

She got “224” — a design to represent today, tomorrow, forever. I was still figuring everything out, but it felt right to finally start charging. I landed on about $50 an hour at first, which felt fair. Nerve-wracking, but fair.

Now I charge around $80–$100 an hour depending on the piece, and honestly, that shift didn’t come from getting better at art — it came from getting better at boundaries.

Before tattooing, I did photography for 14 years. That was my first taste of being a working artist, and it taught me a big lesson:

People will not value your time the way you do — unless money is involved.

Friends, family, strangers… it doesn’t matter. If there’s no deposit, there’s no urgency. People cancel. They ghost. They reschedule five times. And I get it — life happens. But after losing enough time (and supplies), I realized I had to draw the line.

So now? Deposits are required. No exceptions.

It’s not about being strict or cold — it’s about protecting my time, my energy, and honestly, my sanity. Tattooing is personal. It takes prep, setup, cleanup, and a whole lot of mental space. A deposit says, “Hey, I respect your time,” and I respect that right back.