Interview with Valeriia

I’m originally from Ukraine. I moved to Toronto in 2015 after finishing high school and went to Centennial College here.

I worked full time in healthcare for six years before switching to part time. I still work in healthcare on a casual basis.

Yeah, 100%. I’ve been drawing and painting since I was a kid. When I was a teenager, maybe 13 or 14, I did henna, and I usually did black henna because I loved that it looked like tattoos. I always loved that aesthetic and always wanted to be tattooed.

Before tattooing, I also worked as a portrait painter at a speakeasy in Toronto for about a year and a half or two years.

I don’t paint as much anymore, unfortunately. Most of my creative energy now goes into tattooing, designing and everything else that comes with the job.

But I think working in different mediums is really important. It changes your perspective and nurtures tattooing as well.

It really started after a trip to Portugal.

I have this thing where, after I travel, I’m always like, “Okay, I need to change my life.” I came back to Toronto and thought, “I can’t keep working somewhere where I need to request three days off three months in advance.” I needed more flexibility, and I wanted to do something more creative.

Around that time I was becoming close friends with Benzo (@_benzoink), who’s a tattoo artist. We were at a party one night and I basically asked him, “Bro, would you teach me? I want to learn.”

He said yes.

I ended up doing my first tattoo on him at about eight in the morning in a kitchen after partying. I wouldn’t recommend it, but YOLO.

After that he taught me the basics, helped me find equipment and explained the setup. He was working at a shop and spoke with the owner, and they let me come in, watch, practise and talk to the other artists.

I gave myself four weeks to see whether this was actually something I wanted to do. I took time off from the hospital and started practising. Fake skin was one thing, but when I moved to real skin, I thought, “Holy shit, this is way harder than I expected.”

But I loved it.

So I spoke to my manager and moved from full time to part time. A lot of my friends also let me practise on them, which I’m very grateful for.

I started learning around the end of May 2023, and by the beginning of August I was working in a shop. Obviously I wasn’t great, but I was older and I had some confidence in myself. I knew I was a hard worker, and if I really wanted something, I would work for it.

I think I’m already becoming that artist: creative and responsible.

For me, there’s a difference between executing an image well and developing your own artistic vision. A tattooer can take an image, put it on your skin and follow the stencil perfectly. As an artist, I want to look at the bigger picture: your anatomy, body shape, existing tattoos, future tattoo plans, placement and overall composition. I want to create something unique that belongs on your body.

That’s why I think practising visual art, especially drawing, is so important. Understanding composition and developing an aesthetic vision help you find your own style and create work that flows with the body.

But I don’t judge either approach. There’s a place for everyone. It depends on your goals and how you see tattooing.

Creativity also means constantly going through cycles of metamorphosis. I die and I’m born again many times (as an artist, of course). I have periods where I think, “I hate it. I don’t know what I’m doing.” Then I evolve again.

Responsibility means understanding that the decisions we make during a session are permanent. If the skin is getting overworked, if I need more time to think about the next step, or if I’m too tired to perform at my best, I’ll stop and continue another time. Finishing in one session is never more important than doing good work.

Responsibility also means being comfortable saying no. Sometimes I’ll recommend another artist, often one of my friends, because I know they’re a better fit for that particular idea.

I want the work I create to feel close to my soul and my vision. I want to be excited about it, because that’s when I know I can give the project my best.

I have flash designs that I create myself, but I also do a lot of custom work.

Usually clients reach out with their idea, approximate size and placement. I always ask for references because I want to see whether their vision is actually close to what I create. Sometimes people like my Instagram profile and then send me something completely different from anything I do.

I think about whether I can translate their idea into my artistic language.

With custom work, the original idea might be the client’s, but how I’m going to do it is still mine. That’s where collaboration comes in.

I don’t copy somebody else’s style. My tattoos are usually softer, gentler and more flowy. Whatever somebody brings to me, it’s still going through my interpretation.

Honestly, I love tattooing my flash. It’s an incredible feeling seeing your own artwork on somebody’s skin because that was the intention when you created it. When somebody resonates with something I made enough to put it permanently on their body, I feel very grateful.

But I also don’t think I’d have the flash I have now without doing custom work. Working with clients, brainstorming and sharing ideas give me inspiration and help develop my style.

They’re connected.

There are actually certain things I can’t really draw on my iPad the way I can tattoo them on skin.

I’ve learned my instruments: my tattoo machines and needles. I can’t necessarily use a pencil in exactly the same way.

There’s a certain blurry effect I know how to create with a needle. I also have this water texture I’ve tattooed a few times. Usually I’ll freehand it or just have a simple outline showing the flow. I can’t really draw it properly beforehand, but once I have the machine in my hand, I know exactly what to do.

A lot of that is intuition.

Of course, the client has expectations and I stick to the plan. If I want to make changes, I always discuss them. But within that plan, a lot of the details happen intuitively.

Tattooing is also different from other art because you can’t really go backwards. On an iPad you can erase something. With a painting you can paint over it. With tattooing, every movement and every decision has to be intentional.

I don’t wait. I think waiting for inspiration is a lazy approach to work.

If this were my hobby, maybe I would have the luxury of waiting for inspiration. But this is my job. I rely on it to eat and pay my bills, so I have to take it seriously and keep going.

I find that inspiration usually comes once you’ve already started. Starting is the hardest part. Everybody is scared of the white canvas. Once you begin, it gets easier.

I still get random ideas or moments of inspiration, of course. I take a lot of notes on my phone: tattoo designs, content ideas, posts, TikTok, everything. Then I put those ideas to work.

Social media is extremely important. Maybe it’s almost as important as the tattooing itself now.

There are thousands of artists whose profiles you can look through. You can see their work and their style and choose exactly who you want. You can even travel to another city to see them. From the artist’s point of view, that gives you access to a huge potential client base.

I take it very seriously, but it’s basically another full-time job.

And I do burn out. I go 100 kilometres per hour and hustle for weeks or months until I’m exhausted. Then I take a break, change the scenery, reset and eventually do it again.

I’m trying to be more balanced, but maybe I also need to accept that this is part of who I am.

I love to dance for hours somewhere in a dark warehouse or under the trees. Techno gives me life and charges me with insane energy. Hypnotic, groovy, dark and sexy.

When you’re really in the moment on a dance floor, especially at parties where there are no phones and everybody is actually present, there’s this feeling of unity even though you don’t know those people.

For me, that’s where my body, my mind and my spirit are together at the same moment. Nothing else is important.

I get crazy ideas in those moments. It’s genuinely how I reset.

I’ve also started learning to mix vinyl. It’s completely different from visual art, but I can spend an hour or two practising and be in a flow state.

Having another creative outlet lets me step away from tattooing and come back with more energy.

Sonder is the realization that every person, including ourselves, is going through a unique life experience. I translated it into my tattoo language, and it turns out it’s understandable to millions of people worldwide.

I’ve thought about it, but I know myself. I’m never limited to one thing.

It’s a period where this particular thing is trendy, and trends don’t last forever. Of course I’m thinking about what’s next because I don’t want to lose the momentum.

Right now I’m enjoying it and capitalizing on it. I’ve guested in Vancouver, Montreal and Manchester, and now I’m getting messages from other cities, so I’m planning more guest spots.

Right now, it’s one of the purposes of my life.

Obviously it’s about creativity and channelling that part of myself, but it’s also meaningful work.

At the end of a session, when a client looks in the mirror and you see how happy they are, that’s the culmination of everything. I know the feeling because I’m tattooed myself. You get a new tattoo and you’re like, “Damn.” You feel more confident, more badass.

Knowing I’ve affected somebody’s life in a positive way makes the work meaningful. That’s extremely important to me, and I think it’s one of the things I was lacking before.

I personally put aesthetics before meaning.

Tattooing is visual. You look at it every day. I don’t think every tattoo needs to have a meaning, but I think every tattoo should look good.

Most of my tattoos don’t have some deep story behind them. I just like how they look.

I also tell clients that when you attach a very specific meaning to something, your relationship with that meaning can change over your lifetime.

Maybe the tattoo represents a person and five years later you hate that person. Or something that felt incredibly important isn’t important anymore.

A tattoo captures that moment, and there’s something beautiful about that. But at least if it looks good, even if the meaning changes, you still have a good tattoo.

Book with artists whose work you like. Get tattooed by them. Ask questions. Be honest that you’re starting, observe, be respectful and practise drawing.

And don’t limit creativity to tattooing. Explore other things. Different creative outlets can restore you and make you better at your main one.

I also think people should be realistic about money. A lot of people think, “Okay, I’m going to become a tattoo artist and make $100,000 a month.” Maybe somebody does. Great. But that’s not always reality, especially in a market that’s saturated with artists.

I still have another source of income, and that took a lot of pressure off tattooing while I was learning.

If you can, don’t immediately put yourself in a situation where every tattoo has to pay your rent. Focus on learning and becoming better first. Once tattooing starts covering your basics consistently, then make that transition.

Tattooing is expensive for the artist too: studio rent, equipment, supplies, no paid vacation or sick days. I think tattoos are a luxury, but I still want my work to be accessible. Pricing is something I struggle with too.

And be part of the community. Talk to other artists. Be nice. Be respectful to artists and clients.