As told by Leah Miller... then edited into a fancy fake interview/report by her husband who clearly finds strange ways to entertain himself.
She walks into the room in a manner that commands attention. She is shockingly tall; towering over me like a mighty redwood towers over a taller redwood that happens to be sitting down. Long, dark hair flows wavily past her shoulders. Clad in old jeans bearing wallet-wear marks in both rear pockets, and topped with a green and white tee that my best guess tells me belonged to a pee-wee sports team somewhere in western Canada.
“Have a seat,” I say nervously. “I’m not sure where to begin,” I continue, caught in her stare as she peers from behind her black cat-eye glasses.
“I started getting tattoos in 1989,” Leah begins, “and found myself generally pretty dissatisfied with the results. I decided I could do a better job myself.”
“Let me stop you there,” I interject. “Okay, go on.”
“What was that about?” she inquires with a look folks on the internet might describe as ‘wtf’. I assure her that I’m just an idiot and I like attention. The conversation moves forward despite an additional double-take on her side.
“With a friend, I sold a camera and bought tattoo equipment,” Leah picks up. “We learned to tattoo together during my final year of Art College in Halifax.”
My eyes light up. “Ooh! Art College! Have you ever been naked in the name of art?”
She stares at me with eyebrows raised. I’m already lost in imagination land, and I assume a mindless grin is stretching across my glassy-eyed face.
Beginning with a sigh, she continues. “We tattooed ourselves and we tattooed our friends.” She makes a point to mention that despite it working out for her, she personally wouldn't recommend learning that way. “A year after I started tattooing, I found myself back in Moose Jaw. With a small loan from my mom, I started my first studio. It was a small shop on Main Street, open five days a week. Barber shop hours actually -- closed Sunday and Monday. I think I was a little ahead of my time for Moose Jaw, having no flash and hoping to do all custom designs and work.”
“Did it not work out, then?” I ask.
“I did alright, but Moose Jaw just wasn't right for me. A year and a half into it, I packed my bags and headed for the bright lights of the big city.”
<to be continued...>