The Message Behind Merger Ink—and Why It Matters
Merger Ink: When a Dream Becomes Something Bigger
Most of us get into this industry with a simple dream: to make good tattoos. That’s it.
We want to make clean lines, smooth shading, solid work, one-of-a-kind art—something people will wear with pride. That was the dream.
But the deeper you go, the more you start to see things differently.
You start to realize that just making good tattoos isn’t enough—not if you want to build something that lasts. Our industry isn’t built to support that long-term. Not if you want to take care of your people, your family, or the next generation coming up behind you.
Because the truth is: in this industry, talent doesn’t always equal security. Hard work doesn’t always equal stability. A solid portfolio doesn’t always translate to ownership, benefits, or a way out when your hands stop working.
I’ve seen some of the best artists in the game struggling just to get by. I’ve seen legends pass away with nothing left behind—not for their families, not even for their name. And I’ve watched too many good people burn out, disappear, or get pushed out by politics, pressure, and a system that doesn’t protect them.
This industry was built on hard work and talent. But it hasn’t always returned the favor.
When I started out, I wasn’t thinking about building an empire. I was just trying to survive. Support my family. Create a life for myself and the people I love—a different life than the one I lived before prison. Pay rent. Stack appointments. Build my name, one tattoo at a time.
But over the years, that hustle turned into something bigger.
A purpose.
A mission.
For me, my family goes beyond blood. It’s the artists and the clients who gave me a second chance—I owe everything to them. To this industry.
I look around, and I see artists doing the best work of their life… and still living paycheck to paycheck.
Studios that feel more like revolving doors than homes.
Tattoo artists being treated like cogs instead of creators.
And I knew—I couldn’t just sit back and accept that. It’s not just about me.
The Road Isn’t Easy (But It’s Worth It)
Building anything real means taking hits.
I’ve been in this game for over three decades. I’ve had my wins—but I’ve taken my losses too.
Thirteen years ago, I came up with an idea for a new needle design. Something that could’ve changed the way we tattoo. I partnered with an engineer to bring it to life. Trusted him. Brought him into the fold.
Next thing I know? He disappears with the concept. Ghosted. Took the prototype, the formula, everything.
I could’ve let that break me. Honestly, it almost did.
We’re probably all using those needles now—and no one even knows where it started.
And that wasn’t the only time I got burned.
Over the years, I’ve had people approach me with offers to buy Skin Design. Big numbers. Easy out.
“Why wouldn’t you sell it?” they’d ask. “You’ll be set for life.”
And yeah, maybe I would’ve had less stress. Maybe I could’ve walked away with a heavy paycheck and a clean slate.
But then what?
What’s left when you give up the thing you built from the ground up? What do you tell your daughters—emerging artists of their own—when they ask what happened to the dream?
There’s no shortcut to legacy.
It’s built in the quiet moments—when no one’s clapping, when no one believes in it but you.
There were nights I almost gave up. Times when we lost everything and had to start again from scratch.
I’ve stood in those moments where it feels like the world’s watching, waiting to see if you’ll fall apart or fight through it. Times when it feels like there’s an army praying for your downfall.
And every time—I chose to fight.
Because this is about something greater than myself.
It’s about the artists who gave me their trust.
The clients who sat for 12+ hours straight.
The next generation who look up to this industry as a way forward.
This is for anyone who’s ever had a dream bigger than their circumstances.
For anyone who’s ever been told to “just give up” and chose not to.
Why Merger Ink Had to Happen
Ownership has never come easy for tattoo artists.
Most of us spend our whole careers head-down, machine in hand, grinding. Pouring ourselves into every piece. Spending more time with clients than we do with our own families. And at the end of the day? We walk out with sore backs, tired eyes—and not much to show for it beyond the art itself.
Too often—
We don’t get 401(k)s.
We don’t get healthcare.
We don’t get equity in the products we use, even though we’re the reason those products exist in the first place.
For most artists, the best deal we’re offered is a sponsorship—and don’t get me wrong, that can be a great opportunity. Free products, exposure, maybe even a little boost to your platform.
But it’s not long-term security. It’s not a retirement plan. It’s not something you can pass down to your kids.
When rent’s due, when your body’s worn down, when life hits, we need more than logos and promo codes. We need real ownership. Real opportunity.
That’s why Merger Ink had to happen.
Not just to create another ink company, or another product line, or another brand with a slick name.
This is about taking the power back—putting it in the hands of the people who actually built this culture.
We didn’t come together to slap our names on a bottle and call it a day. We built this to last.
Three industry icons, three different backgrounds, one mission: ownership for the artist.
Big Sleeps. Fernie Andrade. Myself.
We didn’t need to do this. We chose to.
Because if not us, then who?
We’ve all seen what’s happening.
Studios getting bought out by corporate groups.
Conventions no longer run by artists, but owned by people who don’t know what it feels like to hold a machine for ten hours straight.
Rows of booths rented out—not to individual artists—but to brands with money, with reach, with agendas too often that have nothing to do with the soul of tattooing.
It’s happening fast. And if we don’t claim our seat at the table now—we’ll be left standing outside the room.
This isn’t a distant future, either. This is what’s actively happening—within five years, our industry won’t even be ours anymore.
Merger Ink is our answer to that.
A platform built by tattoo artists, for tattoo artists.
We’re creating something we can pass down.
Not just a product—but a foundation.
A movement.
To protect the craft.
To elevate the artist.
To remind the industry who it was built on.
And this?
This is just the start.
For the Ones Coming Up
Legacy isn’t about ego. It’s not about having your name in lights or hearing people call you an icon.
It’s about what you leave behind when the machine’s finally quiet.
It’s about who you lift up while you’re still here.
When I think about what we’re building with Merger, I don’t just think about myself or the artists I came up with—I think about my daughters.
Reena, Reesa—and maybe even Vanna someday. Artists in their own right, carving out their own space in this industry. As a father, how could I not want more for them than I had?
More opportunities. More protection. More freedom to focus on the art.
And it’s not just about them.
It’s for every artist at Skin Design who stays after hours to finish a piece right.
Every apprentice who’s still learning to pull clean lines but shows up hungry.
Every client who believes in what we do. Every artist around the world who has something to say—we want your voice to be heard.
We’ve all seen what happens when we wait too long. We lose people. Real ones.
Talented artists who gave their life to this craft and left with nothing. No savings. No fallback. No ownership of the legacy they helped create.
That can’t be the story anymore.
We’re changing that narrative. Taking it back.
We’re making sure what we build doesn’t vanish the moment we’re gone.
Because what’s the point of success if you can’t pass it on? What does it matter if things just get harder for the next generation—if opportunities just get scarcer, bought out by the highest bidder at the expense of everyday people?
Merger—it isn’t just ink.
It’s a blueprint.
Merger Ink: More Than a Brand, a Movement
When we launched Merger Ink, our first drop wasn’t in New York. It wasn’t in LA.
It was in Mexico—a country that’s long been part of the soul of tattooing but rarely gets the credit it deserves.
The support we got down there was next level.
From artists, distributors, studios—people who didn’t just get what we were building… they felt it.
With how much chaos is going on in the world, all the wars raging on all continents, I’m so grateful to be a part of something that’s making a difference in the tattoo industry. A community that’s made up of outcasts, immigrants, ex-convicts, outlaws—these are my people.
In a time when so much feels disconnected, when headlines are all division and noise—this was different. Real respect. Real unity. Real excitement for what’s coming next.
It’s so humbling.
It reminded me: this isn’t about status. It’s not about headlines or hype.
It’s about artists around the world who are ready for something different.
It’s about showing up where others don’t.
And, just like with anything meaningful, we’ve had our critics.
“Three big names to make a bottle of ink?”
We hear it. But we’re not fazed. Because if you’re focused on the bottle, you’re missing the message.
This isn’t about ink—it’s about what it represents.
Collaboration over competition. Ownership over scraps.
A shared vision in an industry that’s gotten used to isolation.
The goal isn’t to silence the critics. The goal is to build something strong enough that they don’t matter.
Sneak Peek: The Bigger Vision
We’ve been planning this for years.
Every step of the way—quiet moves, slow progress, trial and error. Something that anyone with a goal can relate to. Good things don’t always come easy.
And now?
Things are moving.
Full-circle moments in motion. From the ink to the aftercare—Blasted—launching soon. We’re giving artists a voice in what they do and the products they use, day in and day out at the studio.
We’re building a full system—not just tools, but resources.
Products made with purpose, priced for real artists, not inflated for profit.
And in Mexico? We’re laying the foundation for our first Merger Ink studio.
A space that reflects the kind of community we’ve always wanted to see—where talent is developed, supported, and given room to grow.
This isn’t a one-off launch. This is long-term. Global.
We’ve got other ideas brewing, too. Our own convention one day—one that puts artists first without the politics, without the buyouts, without the gatekeeping.
We’re older now. We’ve seen our industry change so much over the years. But we’re not done.
Not even close.
Because everything we said we were going to do?
We’re doing it.
Merger Ink: Your Sign to Keep Building
If you’re out there chasing a dream—
If you’re pushing through setbacks, working in silence, wondering if it’s all going to pay off—
Let this be your reminder: don’t stop.
There were plenty of times I wanted to quit.
Plenty of nights I laid awake asking myself if it was even worth it.
When the support dried up. When the money got tight. When the people who said they believed in you disappeared.
But I’ve learned something over the years—
You don’t need a crowd.
You don’t need applause.
You just need that one voice inside you that refuses to let go.
That is how legacy is built.
In the quiet grind—the early mornings, the late nights, the sacrifices no one sees.
I’ve learned that it’s all about timing—yes—but there is no perfect time to start.
Start with what you have.
Build with what you know.
And trust that if you stay the course, the right people will find you.
I’m not writing this as someone who had it easy.
I’m writing this as someone who had to fight for every inch.
Who’s still fighting—for my family, for my team, for this industry, and for the ones coming next.
Together, we can do better. Be better. We’re stronger united.
And now, here we are.
Making it happen. One launch. One idea. One voice.
Let’s keep pushing.
Let’s keep building.
Let’s keep creating something we can all be proud of.
Let’s gooooo!