Atlanta, GA is known for many things; like its traditional southern cuisine, big-name stars and colorful athletes. In the prestigious art district of Castleberry Hill, multi-talented artist, Miya Bailey, is putting the city on the map for another reason—tattooing. As co-founder of City of Ink, Miya has gained nationwide attention for his jaw-dropping freehand tattoos, which incorporate some of the best color techniques on skin of color seen today.
History dates Miya back to the area’s first tattoo shop, West End tattoos. Valuing focus, honor and discipline, Miya pulls no punches in stating that being an artist is a born trait. Today, his bold sleeve pieces are popping up on the arms of locals, visitors and celebrities alike. The distinctive style, which Miya calls fine art tattooing or skin painting, is characterized by bold lines, imaginative subjects and daring uses of color. Miya’s tattoo art possesses an aesthetic that takes on a life of its own, concentrating on themes of triumph, love and numerology.
Like most artists, Miya is outspoken, priding himself on starting a movement that pushes the envelope in black tattoo art. The newly remodeled 4000 square feet City of Ink opened its doors in February 2007, and houses a fine art gallery with regular art showings in addition to the fully operational tattoo shop. Staying true to the history of his art form, Miya references pioneers like Jacci Gresham, the first African American woman tattoo as, the Queen Mother of the game. So where did this self-proclaimed perfectionist in art and tattooing come from?
I grabbed the chance to talk with the golden boy of the Atlanta tattoo scene and learn more about the man behind the buzz.
URBAN INK: How did you get into tattooing?
Miya Bailey: My first real exposure to tattooing came to me via my god-brother, Joshua. When he showed me the needle and thread technique, I said to myself, “I can do this.” We were living in the projects of Ashville, NC at the time, and I saw tattooing as a means to get me out. I needed to find a master tattoo artist who would train me. I had few mentors in Ashville, but it didn’t work out too well, so I relocated to Atlanta in ’94. I got my work and drawings together and hit the Yellow Pages. However, every shop I solicited denied me. It wasn’t until I made my way to West End Tattoos I showed my work to Julia Alphonso. She told me I had potential, but I should throw my portfolio away, because it was horrible. So I did. I threw everything away. Then she trained me from scratch. There were three other artists at that shop, who contributed to training me. In all, my apprenticeship took three years. It was a long time to be broke.
When did you get your first tattoo?
It was an Ankh. I did it myself. The first tat that someone else did on me was a skull, which is totally opposite [laughs].
What inspired your Ankh?
The symbolism—The Ankh signifies life and I was at a point when I wasn’t happy with life. I was in the streets. I wasn’t a Christian, so I couldn’t get a cross or anything like that, but it was a spiritual thing for me.
What’s your customer base like?
I mainly do sleeves and back pieces. The majority of my clients are females. I also cater to the Afro-punk scene, so I tattoo a lot of artists, musicians and writers.
What do they generally ask for?
I’m kind of cursed with the Ankh [laughs]. I’m not really a big fan of doing it, but outside of that, the most typical thing is sleeve work. Sleeves are number one. That’s my specialty. My focus right now is to sleeve as many people as I can.
What are some of the more challenging or difficult pieces you’ve tackled?
In regard to artwork, I really don’t see any piece as difficult. The challenging part is bringing the idea out from the customer. Most clients don’t know what they want. They just want a Miya piece. I have to dig it out of them. I ask questions: Find out what kind of music they listen to or check out their style of dress, and I create a style that fits into their everyday life. That’s the most challenging part. I do my own art, so it’s never too difficult.
Is the person you’re tattooing a source of inspiration?
Definitely—I try and get a feel for the person in the small amount of time we have together. I will put together a piece, which will reflect their soul and their personality.
Any tattoos you won’t do?
I like to be pushed. I don’t have a certain limitation or rule when it comes to the art. I won’t do faces. I will do a small piece on the temple or something like that. I had a client who flew in from LA for a lotus piece on the side of her face, but I won’t do entire faces. I’m not a big fan gang tattoos, due to the negativity. My goal is to get better and get out of my comfort zone. When someone has an idea that is totally out of the box, I’m like, “Ask me to do it. I can do anything.”
Pushing the envelope in your work plays a key part in developing your business?
Yeah, and I hate to put this out there, but this can be a very racist business. A common example would be to assume that getting something from Miya is going to be cultured, but not all of my tattoos are culture related, and don’t have to carry deep meaning behind it. It’s more about the artwork for me. I don’t have to do anything too spiritual or too anything. I just want to do something looks nice. My whole thing is doing fine art, which reflects a person’s lifestyle.
What racial barriers have you faced, breaking into this business?
As a Black tattoo artist, finding an apprenticeship was hard. A lot of the old school guys are White—biker dudes who have been tattooing for over 30 years, so we don’t necessarily fit into their culture. A lot of times, the artwork is not of their taste. Unfortunately, what happens is people get into the business without an apprenticeship and they f#ck it up for everyone. One artist’s work represents everyone, regardless of skill or background. I really think as Black tattoo artists, we have to focus on pushing the envelope. We have to destroy stereotypical images and rebuild, so the mainstream will respect us more as artists. It’s also about knowing the history of Black tattoo artists. Those of us out here inking should honor our forefathers of Black tattooing. Jacci Gresham in New Orleans has been in this for over three decades. She is our queen, and we should honor her.
City of Ink
323 Walker Street
Atlanta, GA 30313
Article by Erika Salter
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