Inked and Inclined: Storm Sampson
Photos by Madeleine Ivey
In mainstream society, a little over a decade ago, there was a harsh stigma attached to tattoos. People with ink weaved into their bodies like embroidery were viewed as the deviators and delinquents of society who didn’t follow the norms written by the corporate world. The stereotype behind ink was fueled even more when criminals in prison would go under the needle to get teardrop tattoos which trickled down their face, signifying the lives they’d taken.
Since then, there has been an upheaval regarding the tolerance of people’s personal choices and lifestyles; the strides in the LGBT community prove this to be true. Tattoos have strayed from that initial stigma. Securing a job with ink is more flexible these days. For instance, if someone were to walk into an interview with tattoos spiraling up their arm, they would be judged based on their credentials and charisma, not the art prevalent on their skin. Don’t get me wrong, there are still places out there that take precautions when hiring or interacting with a tatted person. But much like the fight to legalize gay marriage, the fight for tattoo acceptance ensues. There is a light at the end of the tunnel, the real question to ask is “when will we reach it?”
Despite society’s slow grasp on the relevance of tattoos, I see the light they shine on people. I deem body ink a spectacle, an art form, a loaded memory, a trauma, a self-discovery or even a bolster to one’s own confidence. Take Storm Sampson, a third-year service design major from Dayton, Ohio, who has forearm tattoos that are of monumental importance to him. They read “He is the grand optimist,” on his right arm and “I am the world’s poor pessimist,” on his left in cursive. His tattoos are lyrics written by his favorite band, City and Colour. It wasn’t until he heard the live rendition that he needed to suffer the painful prick of the needle for these words.
“I felt it was a song about my life rather than the singer’s,” said Sampson.
A few years before the concert, his close friends bombarded him with attacks on hischaracter. They said he was too judgmental, that he needed to “get off his high horse,” that he viewed the world through a lens smeared with negativity and that he talked to people in a condescending way. Not only did this sting, but it pissed him off. It pissed him off because he knew it had some truth to it. So instead of being angry both with himself and his friends, he attempted to change his ways.
“I had always considered myself a nice person, but more often than not my sharp tongue moved quicker than my mind, which would make me say things that I didn’t necessarily mean,” said Sampson.
Over the years, he prided himself to be growing in the right direction. He was more experimental, imaginative, generally more pleasant to be around. He appreciated life more and took in every little detail the world had to offer. He dismounted the high horse he had been confined to.
It wasn’t until college crept into his crosshairs that he realized how important his loved ones meant to him. Before long, he struck up a job under his father.
“I have always had a huge respect for my dad. He is the biggest inspiration of my entire life, especially when I was young.”
His father was of rare sorts due to his unyielding, supportive nature. Whatever decision Sampson made, whatever direction he chose to go, his father stood by him regardless of how jarring and weird it was. His decision to go to SCAD surfaced no qualms and received only applause for his initiative and acceptance into the program. Despite the financial struggles that would emerge for the family in the future, this was the moment Sampson realized how free spirited, easy-going and optimistic his father was. A true testament to the good character he wanted to possess.
When “Little Hell,” by City and Colour splashed onto the market, Sampson bought it for his father. “My dad and I didn’t relate on many things since we were extremely different people, but we always managed to connect through music.” His father loved the CD.
So while City and Colour performed the summer before his college career, after all those memories, all those emotions inflicted through character attacks by his friends, all those pivotal life decisions which his father supported; the live music spoke to him in a way nothing ever had. It completely changed his outlook on his surroundings, other people, his family, his future and — most importantly — his pessimistic nature. His tattoos are a constant reminder to be the man his dad strived to be every day. His tattoos are a constant reminder to be optimistic.
