Tattooist produces detailed body of art

Ink just doesn't look so good when it's infected, says tattoo artist "Big Bill" Woolsey.

As a 16-year veteran of the trade and owner of Tattoos by Big Bill in Kalispell, Woolsey's ambition is to turn tattooing into a "medical art form."

"We really feel that the more training you have the better off you are being in this business," said Woolsey. "We really look at it from a medical point of view."

Montana's Department of Public Health and Human Services already licenses tattoo artists, who operate under a set of rules that dictate the inks they use, the sanitation of their facilities and who they can tattoo. The state tells tattoo artists what equipment is acceptable, how to dispose of waste, and how many surgical gloves, razors, ink cups and bottles of rubbing alcohol to keep on hand.

But Woolsey would like to see even more regulation.

"The person cutting your hair has to jump through more hoops to maintain their certification than someone putting ink in your skin," said Woolsey, whose burley frame is usually clad in biker chic. A shaved head and full gray goatee complete the picture.

Woolsey would like to see more frequent inspections and a crackdown on what he calls "hackers" - unlicensed and untrained people tattooing out of their garages and kitchens.

"They don't realize the dangers involved," said Woolsey. "We would like to see these people pursued aggressively. I would like to see the community embrace trying to curb this type of attitude and practice."

Before the state passed legislation in 2005, Woolsey said he hadn't seen an inspector in two years. He would prefer inspections to be conducted twice a year.

But focusing state regulation only on legitimate operators is "like putting a Band-Aid on an arterial bleed," said Woolsey.

The former U.S. Navy corpsman already runs his own tattoo parlor with the rigors of a medical clinic.

The building's spotless rooms smell similar to a dentist's office. Woolsey has an autoclave on site to disinfect tubes and other equipment. The same company that sanitizes Woolsey's needles provides the same service for Kalispell Regional Medical Center, he said. There's even paperwork, including a comprehensive after-care program that Woolsey requires every client to sign.

"We tend to exceed what the state requires us to do," said Woolsey, citing personal pride and common sense as reasons for the medical atmosphere.

According to Woolsey, the Flathead County health department is also considering regulating tattoo parlors.

"If they take steps to develop a program, it'll probably be more strict than the state," said Woolsey. "Which is a good thing."

But that doesn't mean the artistic process should be lost in the shuffle.

"It's really a mainstream art form now," said Woolsey, himself a third-generation artist who wants the process to be open and include the whole family.

"I didn't pursue tattooing as much as it pursued me. I just kind of fell into it," said Woolsey, who has by now completed 15,000 tattoos during his years in the business.

"When I was growing up, people didn't really consider tattooing a profession," said Woolsey, whose mother and grandmother were also professional artists, but worked with oil on canvas - not ink on skin.

His shop has done between 18,000 and 20,000 tattoos in 11 years of operation in the Flathead Valley. Woolsey estimates examples of his work are walking around in 45 countries.

Gone are the days of back-alley operations and seedy dives in the waterfront district, he says. The future of the craft is in a clinical setting.

"It's not like that anymore," said Woolsey. "And we've worked very hard to raise the image of tattooing."

Old-school tattooists - adherents often shun the term tattoo artist - traditionally tackled maritime themes, pin-up girls, and roses with heavy shading, using thick black outlines and bold simple colors.

But a fresh approach to tattooing appeared in the 1980s as fine and graphic artists took up the trade. They began to incorporate other skin-art styles, including oriental and fine-line designs. Color palettes expanded as new inks pushed the boundaries of pigment possibilities. Subject matter also evolved to include portraits, bio-mechanical creations, and graffiti style "color bombs."

Outlines sometimes vanished entirely.

"You've got to ask yourself, 'Just because we can do it, should we?'" said Woolsey. "We're real curious to see how questionable techniques that aren't time tested will look 10 years down the road."

Woolsey's work, however, spans all lines. He seems to marry solid old-school technique with new-school daring.

One client, he says, wants a large grizzly bear on his arm, positioned so that it looks like his forearm is coming out of the snarling beast's mouth.

"On a personal level, I like doing real hard stuff of all types," said Woolsey, who will tackle subject matter as diverse as pixies and dragons. Each day brings a new challenge as customers float new ideas and test Woolsey's abilities. Simple one-color solid designs just aren't a challenge, he says.

"It's kind of like an oil change for a master mechanic."

Reporter Nicholas Ledden can be reached at 758-4441 or by e-mail at nledden@dailyinterlake.com