Published: October 28, 2009 12:15 pm      

FEATURE: Tattoo artist Susan Hawkins doubles as a McAlpin rancher

"Come on you, just one more copy," says Sue Hawkins, pounding on a copy machine as a stencil of Metallica lead singer James Hetfield's screaming face finally prints. "I bet Kat Von D doesn't have to deal with this."

Hawkins, a McAlpin rancher and owner of Outwest Tattoo in Jasper, then rubs a stick of deodorant on a customer's arm and places the stencil on. She turns on the tattoo gun.

"Doing okay there, Ed?" she asks as the tattoo gun she's loading with ink sputters.

"What's wrong with that thing?" Ed asks.

"Overworked and underpaid," Sue says with a grin.

Before she began slinging ink in Jasper and tending to rescued wild horses on her McAlpin ranch, Sue was born Susan Hawkins in England in the late 70s. After college, she took a trip to America, anticipating a short vacation. Instead she ended up stranded with a mixed up visa and no way home.

"I was an illegal immigrant in Miami," said Sue. "I lived off of saltine crackers and mayonnaise. I was living in a hotel room on South Beach, for God's sake."

To pass time she started doing murals on the streets of Miami. "That's how I found out I could paint," Sue said as she went to work on Ed's arm. Later, by a quick turn of luck, Sue was offered an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop. Finding fulfillment in painting on skin rather than canvas, she was soon working in an 1,800 square foot shop in West Palm Beach. Before too long, she owned it.

After over a decade of tattooing, she decided to take a vacation in 2004. A vacation that morphed into a road trip.

The road trip was planned, sort of. "We pointed at a map and flipped a coin," said Sue. Then fate took over. "I went on a road trip and ended up buying a house." Sue fell instantly in love with a 1900s farmhouse and ranch in McAlpin. "I moved in with only a lawn chair, blow-up mattress and the dogs."

After contemplating what to do with her newly acquired ranch, she decided to adopt "seven wild great, big horses" from Canada that would have otherwise been slaughtered, following the old French saying "Il vaut mieux faire que dire," which translates "doing is better than saying."

"I decided to put my money where my mouth was and make a bit of a difference, or try," said Sue.

Other animals followed, including a wolf-hybrid dog named Loki after the Norse god of mischief, his best friend a Jake Russell named Gismo, and a bald chicken Sue calls Josephine Dirt.

"We've been trying to find a little mullet wig for her," joked Sue. And let's not forget, an entire herd of Tennessee fainting goats, one or two of which Sue sometimes finds legs up - fainted - on her back porch.

"It's like a giant petting zoo, but a little on the retarded side," she laughed. "We were up to 90 animals at one point, but we've since made some cut backs."

After settling into her new rancher lifestyle, Sue quickly established Outwest Tattoo. "My dad really likes westerns," she clarified. Sue opens her shop at noon so she has plenty of time to cook breakfast for her animals. "Oh yes, I cook them breakfast. I make a stew of carrots in a big pot. I'm lucky to get a granola bar," she admits while holding back laughter. "I used to make the horses cookies, but I just don't have time anymore."

"What did you say?" a customer interrupts.

"I'm speaking me Britishes," she laughs.

Sue is definitely not a stereotypical tattoo artist, nor is her shop exactly what one might expect.

"We try to change it up here," Sue said. "No drugs or obscene signs." In the past, tattoo artists and the tattooed have had the reputation of being ousted artists, misfits or outlaws. Shows like Miami Ink have changed these preconceived notions, however, according to Sue.

Today, tattoos are common and even trendy. Everyone from schoolteachers to rock singers are getting inked. "People have been doing this since ancient times, used with some form of spirituality or rite of passage," Sue said. "It is nothing new."

Sue's own tattoos remain hidden until she's coaxed into revealing an oriental flower on her shoulder and a design on her stomach, both of which she did herself. "My neck hurt for a week after my shoulder tattoo," she said.

On the flip side, Sue's apprentice Eddie Pike lets his piercing and tattoos fly. "Eddie fits the stereotype better than I do," said Sue. "I've never even seen a horror movie." Eddie, an Army veteran, is nearing the end of his apprenticeship. "He's got his little wings. I think my turkey can fly," she said affectionately.

Sue calls her journey to Suwannee and Hamilton counties the completion of a "natural progression north" that started in Miami years ago.

"People here are cool as hell," Sue said. "It is not like a touristy place where people come in, demand and leave. People see it as artwork and that you can actually come up with some really cool stuff. Not just a heart with mom written in it."

Her shop, hidden on SW 1st Ave in Jasper, draws one's attention with the word TATTOO and a large bright blue Dodge truck, Sue's, parked just outside. "I wanted my shop to be small and intimate," Sue says as Gloria Sadler walks in.

Gloria, who has a terminal form of cancer, is quick to pull back her shirt and show off her "Majestic Guardian Angel" sketched and tattooed on her back by Sue. "She is my angel who helps me fight the cancer," said Gloria. "The day I got her it was just me and Sue. Totally private."

"We get the saddest stories," Sue said after Gloria left.

Many people get tattoos because it is a self-administered pain, Sue explained. It is a pain one can control that is apart from that which life inflicts.

"It's very therapeutic in a weird kind of sense," said Sue. "The crazier the world gets, and more unstable, the more people are looking for something tangible."

To make light of a dark conversation, Sue quipped, "Times are tough, get tattooed," and smiled.