Tim Phelps can tattoo from a color or black & white photo

It is difficult to discern the difference between the portrait of the old man and the original photograph.  In the portrait, the artist has captured the wrinkles in the man’s collared shirt, the shadows and marks in the man’s skin tone.  Even the character of the man shines in his eyes: he is looking upward in an almost benevolent expression, as if he is in church listening to a particularly moving sermon after a hard week’s work. His teeth are not perfect and life’s toll has taxed this man, but there is beauty in his face. What makes this particular portrait most amazing is, it not done on a canvas or paper. It is a tattoo, ink on skin, and the artist is Nashville’s Tim Phelps.

Tim Phelps has been tattooing since 2004. An artist, he feels tattooing is more than etching a picture into someone’s skin. If you look at Phelp’s work you will see no two pieces are alike and the details, such as movement in an airplane’s rotor or a light fold in a woman’s skirt, are what makes this more than a stranger-tattoo artist relationship. Phelps is a true artist, a studier of light and movement and color who reads people and things, and you get the feeling he could probably build a sound skyscraper as easily as he could etch an entire book into a grain of rice, doing both with just as much precision.

Tattoos, once associated with the underground, have become mainstream in the last few years. People from all walks of life come in to a tattoo shop and peruse the designs along the walls, called “Flash,” looking for the right body art for self expression. But having a portrait done is, by far, the most personal tattoo one can acquire. Tim Phelps expounds: “I think all tattoos are personal.  A portrait tattoo is personal because it a person… who has affected you and changed your life to the point you are willing to change your skin, your very appearance in their image.” It is permanent, unless you spend anywhere from hundreds to thousands of dollars to make it disappear. It is personal: people see a picture rather than a name. A photograph can be lost or destroyed, but a tattoo is for life. 

Portrait tattoos capture a moment in time for people, such as the woman who had her parent’s wedding kiss picture tattooed across her shoulders, or the newly recruited officer who had his grandfather’s navy photograph tattooed on his shoulder. They serve as a memorial; some people will have angel wings placed behind the portrait of their lost loved one. The portrait does not have to be professional. For her tattoo, one mother selected her daughter’s first birthday photo, blue cake icing smeared across the baby’s face along with a big, gap-toothed smile. Some of Phelps’s customers will elect to have their favorite singer, songwriter, or actor’s image inked into their skin as a tribute. One customer did both a tribute and a famous artist: knowing how much their father loved both Johnny Cash and roses, the customer had Phelps ink an image of the singer, surrounded by roses, on their body in tribute to their father. Phelps loves doing portrait tattoos because,  “the people who get the portraits themselves make me want to do it. The best stories are told.  You get to connect with another person… the human face is something we are all familiar with, everyone looks in the mirror.  It is hard not to find beauty in it.”

The history of tattooing is a fascinating reflection of the past. According to The Origin Of,  “A 5,000 year old frozen but well-preserved body of a Siberian man was discovered in the Alps, having 57 tattoos. The Egyptian priestess Amunet, who existed sometime during 2160 to 1994 BC, had tattoos on her arms, legs and below the navel. In Japan, clay figurines that were more than 3000 years old were found painted with tattoo like markings.” Although tattooing was considered pagan during the Old Testament, Biblical experts imply Moses preferred tattoos to commemorate their deliverance from slavery in Egypt. According to writers in Rome during the same time period, slaves and criminals were also tattooed. “Procopius of Caesarea, in the sixth century, reported that many Christians had tattoos of cross or the name of Christ on their arms. Crusaders, upon arriving in the Holy Land, have a tattoo of a small cross done on their hands or arms to signify their desire for a Christian burial.”

Tim Phelps provides a “Frequently Asked Questions” section on his website and it includes pertinent information, from the pain involved to the myths of tattooing. When meeting with a potential customer, time is taken to discuss what the customer wants, their ideas and desires in the tattoo appearance. Phelps asks about “the message they want to convey” with the tattoo, and then designs the piece. It is both personal and professional. The art is only limited by imagination. Phelps says he will not do any offensive work, and nothing that promotes cruelty to animals, such as dog fighting (he and his wife, Pepper, own dogs that “think they’re babies”). Phelps’s work has earned him awards and accolades across the United States, and he travels to shows and conventions showing his work and learning new skills. This is a craft, not something one can learn overnight. Tim Phelps believes he is constantly learning himself.

Besides being an excellent artist who takes his work seriously, Tim Phelps is a friendly, intelligent man who can discuss a variety of subjects with ease. “I have walked into (tattoo) shops where employees act like they are too cool to talk to you, or its not very personal,” says one potential customer. “When I called Tim about getting some work done, we talked for a long time – about the tat, about art, history, current events. It’s like you are talking to someone who is part businessman, part professor, and part friend.”

Tim Phelps is off to work: now he has a portrait of a man wearing a silly grin, a crooked cap pushed back on his head. It’s one of those photographs you would never really pay attention to, a general snapshot of some regular fellow caught off guard, just another moment in time. But Phelps is going to place angel’s wings around this man’s portrait when he tattoos it on the customer. The man is a beloved family member lost to cancer. “Cancer sucks,” Phelps summarizes. No one can argue this. And it’s as if everyone suddenly knows this fellow in the photograph. The tattoo needle starts to buzz, and a new memorial begins.