“Can you live off this?”
A girl with eyes full of hope asks me this question at a flea market. I can’t help but laugh and shake my head. “Maybe one day.”
She looks through my illustrations — patches and paper prints. I haven’t made it yet, but every baby step brings me a little closer. To being a real artist. To living from my art. To one day simply illustrating — without constantly worrying about fixed costs.

Right now, that means I’m dancing at several weddings at once. I work part-time as a debt counselor to make sure I can always pay my rent — and my health insurance. In my “free time,” I tattoo, illustrate, and sell my work at local Berlin markets. I did try being a full-time artist for a short while, but it quickly became too much. Too much pressure to make money every month. And that pressure shows in the art.

I noticed my focus narrowing down to money alone — what brings in how much? Which motifs sell? By that logic, I should probably only be drawing cute cats. I love cute cats, but so far they refuse to come out of my pen. Instead, it’s ravens, snakes fighting hares, witches, and mythical creatures. Chasing money blocked me completely. So: back to part-time work.

Breaks at work are used productively.

Back then, I was also looking for a tattoo apprenticeship. Tattooing is not a recognized vocational training in Germany. I contacted several studios, and the few that were actually “looking for apprentices” all followed the same pattern:
“First, you work for us for a year. Full-time — and of course off the books. No salary. After a year, we’ll teach you how to tattoo.”
Thanks, but no thanks. So the options were to cheat the state (how else are you supposed to survive while working full-time for free?), or to prostitute yourself on the side? I had already completed my law degree at that point. A year of servitude with the vague promise of maybe learning some tattoo craftsmanship — or maybe not. You hear enough horror stories about shady studios.

Of course, I understand the studios too. They’re afraid of teaching someone, only for that person to leave and open a competing studio next door. But that’s a topic for another blog post.

One of the most beautiful dragon tattoos I’ve been allowed to do so far.

So instead, I started reaching out directly to tattoo artists I follow and admire. Many rejections. Quite often I was told that, for the same reasons mentioned above, they hadn’t learned in a studio either — they taught themselves. The best way to learn, they said, is to get tattooed yourself, ask questions during the process, and observe closely.

And that’s how it all began — almost three years ago now. At first, I got properly ripped off when buying my first tattoo machine and paid far too much for a starter set with machine, fake skin, and supplies. It was a private purchase via eBay Kleinanzeigen from a tattoo artist who wanted to get rid of an old machine and some equipment. But every beginning is hard. During the first year, I practiced exclusively on silicone skin. There are countless free YouTube videos, and in the end, it’s just like drawing: experience and practice.

I did my first real tattoo on myself — a small snake on my foot. It still makes me smile every time I see it in the bathtub. “Your first tattoo should always be on yourself,” I kept hearing — and I wanted to do it properly.
I found my first clients through eBay Kleinanzeigen. At first, I tried offering free tattoos, but that went terribly wrong. Lots of inquiries, and then nobody showed up. An absolute disaster. Once again, the rule applies: what costs nothing is worth nothing. So I started charging money for my first steps — just enough to cover basic costs. Slowly, things began to move forward.

And there is nothing better than tattooing your own illustrations. It’s a damn honor. Seeing someone choose to carry your image on their body — always, everywhere — and show it to the world. That feeling is incredible. A print can eventually be taken down from a wall. But a tattoo? You really have to feel something to choose a motif like that.
In the end, that’s exactly what art is for. You believe an image comes entirely from within yourself — an expression of your own inner world — and then another person recognizes themselves in it. As an introverted artist goblin, that is my one true connection to the outside world, and it means a lot to me. Sometimes I don’t even know how to properly express my gratitude toward the people who get tattooed by me. So if you’re one of them: thank you. It’s an incredible experience to be allowed to do this, and I hope I was able to make you feel that.

So I continue with the art — and with juggling multiple jobs. But you don’t become an artist because you choose to. You become one because you have to. Even as a child, I drew these strange images — always drawing. And I was always told that art has no future, that an artist’s life is poor and uncertain. That’s not how I wanted to end up. I knew early on that I wanted a family. And a family needs money. So how do you earn money safely? Law school. How hard can it be? (Very hard. Traumatic.)

And then what? The dream of being an artist never left me. For a while, I worked full-time as a lawyer and earned very good money. But it buried the art inside me. And that’s when I realized: money alone is not enough for a good life — not when your heart beats somewhere else. So I went back to part-time work as a debt and insolvency counselor. First 30 hours a week. That alone was tough. Tattooing or selling at markets on weekends, the one free day during the week used for that as well, and the rest of the time working as an employee. I managed that for almost three years — and then I ran out of steam. This year, I finally reduced my hours even further.

Without my husband, who has been by my side for six years, I wouldn’t have made it. He helps at markets, sets everything up and takes it down, sews patches, critiques my illustrations, and helps with the website.

As an artist, you have to be an all-rounder: art, marketing, networking… when all you really want to do is draw. Like everything in life, it’s easier with help. My path would be much longer without my husband’s support. Thank you!!

Selling art at markets is a world of its own. Our illustrations are not mainstream — but some people truly connect with them. And that’s good for the soul. Feeling appreciation for your work, knowing that there are people who genuinely love what you create — and experiencing that face to face makes every bit of effort worth it.

A friend sent me this photo — she spotted my patch out in the wild! (whaaaat)
Seeing strangers walking by with a bag or a patch featuring your illustrations is an unbelievable feeling.

By now, we’re also trying to sell our art online. That comes with its own set of hurdles. Etsy charges small listing fees for each item, other platforms want a monthly flat rate — and running your own shop on your own website? That’s where my experience working in an IT law firm makes all the alarm bells go off. Legal warning risks here, legal warning risks there — what about the privacy policy? The cancellation form? Mandatory delivery times? And which plugins are we actually allowed to use?

Sometimes I think I’m making things much harder for myself than necessary. That I’m missing one simple trick or tip that would make everything easier. If you know it — please share the secret with me, somewhere between tattoo appointments, market stalls, a part-time job, and emails with the trade office.

So my dream of being an artist continues. The road is long — but I know it’s the right one for me.

And this blog is part of that journey.