Life is always changing. Even at my age.
Next year I’ll be 55—the so-called “retirement age.” People ask me all the time if I’m sure I want to keep starting new projects: the academy, Merger Ink, my book, an upcoming magazine, new studios in Nashville, OC, SoHo, the expos.
My answer is always the same: I’m not ready to retire. I feel like I’m still just getting started. Between my family and my career, how am I supposed to let myself slow down?


Lately, I’ve been trying to step out of my comfort zone. Find new ways to challenge myself.
Recently, I went on a few podcasts, one with Sullen and another with ‘Mohawk’ Matt. They got me to open up, be vulnerable in a way that can be really hard for me.
Matt asked me, ‘What would Robert today say to the old Robert?’
I’ve been asked this so many times before. It’s a question I ask myself, too, especially in those quiet moments, those times where you reflect on where you’re at, the family you’ve created, and think,
‘How did I get here? This was never supposed to happen to me.’
I look at my family, my daughters, the artists pouring themselves into their art in the studio empire I built from the ground up—and it still feels surreal that this is my life.
Robert today is so different from the Robert I was when I was younger. When I was the same age as my middle daughter now, I was facing a plea deal or the possibility of life in prison.
When I answered Matt, it wasn’t the same answer I usually say to myself. It just came to me in that moment.
I told him it’s like I’ve lived two different lives. I’ve been so embarrassed and ashamed of who I was before that I buried it so far down that I even forgot my old friends’ names, their role in my life back then, all of it. Because I didn’t want to remember that.
It wasn’t until I started to accept the fact that I came out on top, that it’s okay to make mistakes if you own up to them and really remember who you were, that I really understood who I am.

I’m not the man I was before, but he’s still a part of me.
It’s okay to talk about. It’s okay to tell the people in my life who are struggling that they’re not alone, that I know struggle better than I know myself most days. That if I can turn my life around and make it through, be better for it—still learning, still growing—that they can, too.
That’s what it’s really about.


Skin Design family celebrating the new studio in OC on Rodeo 39
I would tell my past self that I wouldn’t change anything.
That you’ll get through it, keep going, keep fighting. Life will keep testing you, but you can’t give up.
I never thought I’d have this life for myself, that I’d be able to uplift the lives of so many artists around me and create the family that I have, but here I am. I never would have dreamed this would all be happening to me. That in a lot of ways, this is just the start.


Me and Reena tattooing long-time client together at the Golden State Tattoo Expo
Just last month, Reena and I got to do our very first father-daughter collabo at an expo, an unreal experience for me as a father and an artist.
The show was slower this year, which gave us more time to connect with people, Reena especially.

Reena meeting one of her younger fans. This was so touching to see as a father, watching young girls look up to my own, knowing that they have a role model in what used to be a male-dominated industry.
It was three days of back-to-back full-day, all night sessions. Designing nonstop, eating at the booth, the constant buzz of the tattoo machine.
But the thing that really got me was the way my daughter put her all into it, without break.
Day 1, our client sat like a rock the whole time, and we didn’t finish until 5 am.


Day two and three were no different.
On the second night, we pulled an all-nighter, staying at the expo until past 8:30 am to work on the details of the piece.
Night three, we knew going into it that we were wanting to do 24 hours nonstop. After eleven hours, our client ended up needing a break early that morning, just to try and catch a few hours of sleep—and I could feel myself finally starting to slow down, too.
When I came back around noon, Reena was still there with Nigel like we’d never left.
Watching her not get any sleep after two full days of tattooing blew my mind. One of those full circle moments that makes you take a step back and think, ‘that’s my daughter.’


She’s been tattooing for four years now, and she’s already getting recognition as an artist.
Watching her get pulled in a million directions, being stopped for photos, loved and celebrated—that was surreal. I could not be more proud of her.
How could I think about slowing down? I’ve still got so much to look forward to, so much to prove to my past self, and to the better man I’m constantly striving to be.


It’s not just for my daughters. It’s for the Skin Design family, for the next generation of artists, for the people who don’t know yet that they can always turn their life around.

Day two of the Golden State Tattoo Expo. My apprentices, Bella and Iddy, resident artist Nigel, and our camera man Brandon stayed with us until past 5 am.
These are the moments that make me remember why I can’t afford to quit. Why it doesn’t matter how old I get, I’m still needed, and I’ve still got so much to do within this industry.
And the fact that I still get to be a part of it all—tattooing alongside and mentoring young artists—inspires me to work that much harder in my own career. Even now, I’m still thinking about going to art school. I’m not slowing down.

Next month, Reena will be in Brooklyn for the New York Tattoo Convention in Brooklyn. It’s a chance for her to create in her community, the city she’s made a home as a resident artist in SoHo.
After collabing with her at her last expo, it’s so humbling to be able to watch her continue to grow independently, seeing the art she creates on her own.
It’s so rewarding to watch her tattooing in her city, with her community, surrounded by some of the best in the world.



Get a closer look at the back piece Reena and I made at the expo here.
If I could put my younger self in that expo hall—24 hours in, tattooing shoulder-to-shoulder with my daughter—he wouldn’t believe it. But that’s the proof. You fight, you change, you keep moving forward, and one day you wake up in a life you never thought you’d deserve.
That’s why I’m not thinking about retirement. At 54, I don’t feel finished. I feel like I finally understand what all the struggle was for.
Pictures from the 2025 Golden State Tattoo Expo
