By Dylan Deprey
“A lot of my customers are like, ‘I don’t care, just do your thing,’ and to trust me that much is a compliment.” (Photo courtesy Jon J Tattoos)
An octopus has three hearts and can regrow its arms if damaged. They are creative creatures that use tools and can communicate through color. Just as the eight-armed cephalopod can ink its way out a situation, so can professional tattoo artist, Jon Johnson.
Jon J Tattoos embodies the octopus. He considers his three hearts: family, music and art. They keep him grounded, but when life throws him back, he uses his creativity to thrust himself even farther.
His style fluctuates, as boredom is his kryptonite. His attention to detail is uncanny. He can name every part of a tattoo machine and build it from the ground up, but still considers himself a student to the craft.
Johnson never saw himself growing up to be a tattoo artist. Before he worked a chair at Moving Shadow Ink, he was an apprentice for a biker gang, and before that, he was just a kid drawing to pass the time.
Jon Johnson is a perfectionist when it comes to line work and precision. (Photo courtesy Jon J Tattoos
“My mother would just buy me art supplies because it was cost effective for her, and it kept me busy for hours,” Johnson said.
He would borrow comics from his cousin and sketch his favorites. From Ninja Turtles to X-Men, he was constantly drawing.
“It was never like, ‘Oh I want to be an artist!’ I just liked Wolverine,” he said. “If I wanted to see Bart Simpson when the Simpson’s were off, I’d draw him.”
He would watch his mother sketch while she was on the phone, and recreate her doodles. He was slowly building himself as an artist without even knowing it.
As his artistic skills grew, he never saw tattooing as a profession. His perception of tattooing at the time was that people told the artist what they wanted and acted more-or-less like a human photocopier.
“Over time I got to seeing my friend’s tattoos, and I knew that I could do it, but probably even better,” he said.
He was eventually offered an apprenticeship at Abyss Tattoos, which was established by the Outlaws Motorcycle Club.
Death seems somewhat sweet when a skull is surrounded by flowers. (Photo courtesy Jon J Tattoos)
“They didn’t care for Black people. They didn’t care for anybody that wasn’t an Outlaw basically, but they saw my work and they must have thought ‘we either take this kid in, or he becomes our competition,” Johnson said.
Whether it was having 100 utensils clean by noon or being able to rattle off facts about tattooing history, he started at the bottom of the totem pole and paid his dues.
“You go get the coffee, you go wash the carts, you go pick up the trash in the back, all without asking, ‘Why?’” he said.
Along with grunt work in the shop, he would draw constantly, and even have to complete homework. He said that in today’s eyes tattoos are more normalized, and from competition shows and reality shows, to the internet, it’s easier to bypass the apprentice step.
“Back then, it was more like a secret society. It was like if you want to learn this, you’ve got to earn this.
Now, it’s not like that anymore, but I’ve seen some people do some crazy shit just to be a tattoo artist. Some deserved it and some didn’t,” he said.
After working at a shop in Menomonee Falls, in Chicago and even overseas in England, he finally set up shop back in Milwaukee.
He said around that time, Black tattoo artists were almost taboo. They were associated with jail and thugs. In the poorer communities, tattooing was looked at as more of a hustle than as an art. While there were some Black tattoo artists on the Northside, he was one of the first to have a chair on the south side.
He considers the lack of support amongst black tattoo artists a serious issue that is rarely talked about.
He noted that the Milwaukee tattoo culture had its cliques, but Black artists were usually left flying solo.
“I’ve never had the, ‘Oh this guy is like me,’ experience once in Milwaukee. Then, when you see Black tattoo artists on T.V. they’re arguing, they’re ratchet, and they can’t tattoo. It’s all drama and never, ‘I care about my line work’ or ‘how does this tattoo look and feel.’ That’ s not us at all,’” he said.
Even at the International Tattoo Expo in Chicago, there wasn’t one artist that looked like him.
“Some days I wake up thinking, ‘Well I made it this far by myself, I guess I don’t need anybody else,’ but some days I wished I could share the wealth of knowledge I’ve gained over the decade,” Johnson said.
He wants to teach up-and-coming North side artists the business aspects that come along with their art.
He also talks drawing over the phone with his younger brother, who is incarcerated. They used to draw together as kids, and he plans on passing on his knowledge to his brother when he returns.
As for Johnson’s style, it’s ever-changing. While he specializes in detailed black and grey, realism and watercolor, he stays divergent.
“You’re not going to make it to the NBA only being able to dribble with your right hand. You’ve got to be ambidextrous, have a sense of what’s going on and see down the court. They are all things they need to be ready for. Anybody can walk into your tattoo shop and name anything they want for a tattoo, and you’ve got to be ready for that,” he said.
While art is truly in the eye-of-the-beholder, Johnson is flattered any time a client gives him full artistic control. He could be doing a Milwaukee skyline, a floral piece or a sugar skull, each piece is 100 percent authentic.
“Whether I’m tattooing, working at McDonald’s or cleaning gutters, I’m going to be the best at what I can be.” he said. “It’s inevitable.”
Visit Jon J Tattoos online at https://www.facebook.com/jonjtattoos/ and on Instagram @JONJTATTOOS