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When I got out of artschool I ended up working at a crappy call center to pay back my tuition bills. Once people became aware that I had some sort of drawing skill I had a semi-lucrative side gig drawing tattoo designs. I needed the cash and I didn't have much artistic integrity then, plus I didn't consider myself good enough to do comics around that time. I gave away a bunch of the designs that I did but I have a few floating around. The above are some of them. I never was interested in the final products and I considered my "clients" silly and frivolous with money to burn. Walking dollar signs I called them. It was a good second income and it was easy to say "NO" when people requested that I copy a photo of their dead grandma, reproduce kanji, draw gay tribal shit or redraw an existing image for them to get etched into their bodies. Then I got decent enough to draw comics and forgot about dabbling in the simple practice of creating images that were to appear on human hamburger meat. That is, I forgot about it until I looked in the sketchbook that was propping up the bookshelf in my garage a few minutes ago.
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