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Arms and the man

David Bruehl holds a passion for the art of covering arms in intricate designs. He holds even more for the love of his wife and 2-year-old son.

By LESLIE PAREDES
Published April 22, 2005


UNIVERSITY AREA - He's not your typical tattoo artist.

David Bruehl grew up in Oklahoma, one of only three states that still bans tattooing. And he won't let his son get one until he's at least 18.

But make no mistake: Bruehl has a passion for tattooing. He's hooked on the artistry of drawing on skin, and he's gaining recognition for his talent.

The July 2005 issue of International Tattoo Art magazine has a 10-page spread dedicated to Bruehl's artwork.

The pictured tattoos feature Bruehl's designs and a technique he considers his specialty: full-sleeve tattoos, which cover the entire arm and require many visits to complete. Any one sleeve can take up to 50 hours to finish, a dedication of time and energy that distinguishes Bruehl from tattoo artists who mostly do quick, simple tattoos.

"I'm drawn to esoteric imagery, like the head of the stag, the anatomical heart, stuff that most people don't know the meaning of," Bruehl said. "I like that mysterious element."

Cryptic allusions to stag's heads are a far cry from Bruehl's original preferred imagery - hot rods and skateboard graphics. He started out like most artists do: drawing and doodling during class instead of taking notes.

Still, he excelled academically. His scores on the ACT college-entry exam, combined with a portfolio of dragons and women with softly pouting lips, won him the top scholarship from the Savannah College of Art and Design.

He meant to become an illustrator, but a classmate suggested he consider tattooing since his bright, bold, graphic drawings would translate well to skin.

At 21, Bruehl networked his way to an apprenticeship at what he eventually figured out was a "lowbrow" tattoo shop in Indianapolis. He spent less than a year there before moving on to a better gig in Key West.

He was hooked.

"When I started tattooing, I just realized it was my passion. There was just so much to obsess over," he said. "Tattooing, as a job, just engulfs you."

He remembers the first professional tattoo he ever did, on a man's forearm.

"I talked to him for 11/2 hours, trying to talk him out of it. I was scared," Bruehl said. "It turned out okay."

These days, he sketches his designs first on an architect's drawing table, then outlines them with delicate lines from a fine artist's pen.

Then, at his work station, amid religious icons of Jesus and Mary, a tournament chess set, and a vibrant painting done by his 2-year-old son, Bruehl turns his careful sketches into permanent art on skin.

Bruehl can easily spend 12-hour days, five days a week on the job. But his love for his wife, Kimmy, and young son, Zeke, transcend his passion for the ink.

Bruehl and his wife, a piercer herself, met each other over the Internet on "Body Modification Ezine," a tattoo and piercing Web site where serious practitioners compare their work.

"I found a lot more to life than what I was experiencing when I met her," he said. "A lot of people, they're just caught up with a bunch of stuff that's irrelevant - TV, media, the scene, celebrities; I'm into the idea of spending my life with her and knowing someone on a deep level."

The birth of his son also opened Bruehl's eyes to his own shortcomings.

"Having a child makes you a lot more patient with life and people," he said, looking up from the tattoo he'd been concentrating on as if putting forth a very important part of his ideology.

"I started being less sarcastic, I didn't want my son to grow up with that sarcasm. I want him to be a genuinely good person and optimistic. I want him to care about others more than he does himself.

"I want him to see that in me. I try my best to be that."

- Times photographer Mike Pease contributed to this story. Leslie Paredes can be reached at 813 226-3339 or lparedes@sptimes.com

[Last modified April 21, 2005, 08:33:10]


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