My story; From animation, to fine art and tattooing.

Growing up in Mexico in the late '80s, I fell in love with cartoons and dreamed of becoming an animator. I used to spend more time drawing my favorite characters than actually following the episodes. Friends would often ask me to draw for them, and I loved doing it—it became a part of who I was throughout my early education. By the time manga exploded in popularity during the early '90s, my dream had evolved: I wanted to move to Japan and work in animation.

But life took a different turn. Around sixteen, I drifted away from art and focused on other things. It wasn’t until I moved to Los Angeles in late 2008 that my passion was reignited. The timing wasn’t ideal—the housing market had just crashed and the economy was in turmoil. My first job in the U.S. was as a bag boy at a grocery store, and then I worked part-time in retail at a department store. It didn’t take long to realize that these jobs wouldn’t even cover my basic needs, and I knew I had to make a change.

Unsure of what to study, I explored different career options, even considering becoming a windmill technician because of the high pay, but nothing felt right. Eventually, I decided to take a risk and pursue art, despite not knowing how I’d make a living from it. I enrolled in a local community college for their animation program. But as I progressed through classes in graphic design, typography, and computer art, I realized I hated working on a computer. As a child, animation was hand-drawn, but by now everything had gone digital. The dream I once had wasn’t what I imagined anymore.

Thankfully, I took some traditional art classes like drawing and painting, and fell in love with the physical mediums such as charcoal, paint, canvas. I changed my major to fine arts, but still struggled to figure out how to turn my passion into a career.

Then, a cousin and a close friend encouraged me to explore tattooing. I’d considered it before but never seriously, since I didn’t know how the industry worked. One day, I saw an ad for a Body Art Tattoo Show in Pomona, California, and decided to check it out. The moment I walked in, I knew I had found my place. The tattoo scene felt like a world where I finally belonged. The music, lowrider cars, fashion, and art all reflected a culture that spoke to me deeply.

But I had no idea how to tattoo, or even how a machine worked. Apprenticeships were hard to come by, and no shops were willing to take me in. So, I took matters into my own hands (not something I recommend). I watched countless YouTube videos on black and grey realistic tattoos, saved up money, and bought my first equipment from a local supply store. Inspired by artists like Mike Giant, Tim Hendricks, and Mr. Cartoon, I started tattooing anyone who would let me.

It was rough. I faced one challenge after another. At one point, I was kicked out of my aunt’s house for tattooing and had to sleep on a futon in a garage. The company I worked for shut down, leaving me unemployed. I hit rock bottom. Desperate and out of options, I prayed: “God, if You want me to be a tattoo artist, I’ll keep going—but if not, I’m done. Let Your will be done.”

Shortly after that prayer, I got a text from a tattoo shop I had applied to. They wanted to see my work. I wasn’t trained, so I hoped that getting a chair at a shop would let me learn from real artists. I tattooed two people in front of the shop owner. He saw potential but said I wasn’t ready yet. I asked for an apprenticeship. He warned me it wouldn’t be easy: no pay, long hours, and lots of dedication. I was the first to arrive, the last to leave—cleaning, selling tattoos, scrubbing bathrooms, but I loved it! I was finally in a Tattoo shop.

The artists in the shop were supportive, even if I wasn’t supposed to ask questions. I watched them closely, learning about machines, needles, and techniques in the black and grey realistic style. I practiced back at the garage, applying what I learned. My work slowly improved. A few months into my apprenticeship, one of the artists left, and I was asked to cover two days a week. My first walk-in wanted a quarter sleeve with praying hands, roses, and his kids’ names. Nervous, I told a great artist, Lorenzo, what the client wanted. He said, “Go for it.” I hesitated, reminding him I was only supposed to do small tattoos, but he told me if I didn’t take the opportunity, I’d never grow. So I did it…and it turned out okay. That was the unofficial end of my apprenticeship.

Instead of taking the usual year or two, my apprenticeship lasted only four months before I became a full-time artist. Sadly, though my prayer had clearly been answered, I forgot the One I had prayed to.

Tattooing changed my life completely. I gained friends, got invited to parties, and dove headfirst into the wild side of the industry. It felt like freedom, until it didn’t. After months of partying and chasing fleeting pleasures, I found myself feeling empty. Depression crept in. I looked for answers in the wrong places and through the wrong substances.

Then one day, on Good Friday in 2011, a woman walked into the shop. Something told me I had to talk to her. I asked her out. On our first date, she said I was crazy and needed church. “What kind of church?” I asked. “A Bible-teaching church,” she replied.

I decided to go. During the service, I felt deeply uncomfortable—like the message was directed at me personally. The pastor didn’t know me, but it felt like the words from the Bible were speaking directly to my soul. Somehow, I knew I had found what I’d been looking for all along. Eventually, the pastor invited anyone who wanted to surrender their life to Jesus to come forward. With a melted heart and tears in my eyes, I did. From that moment on, everything changed.

That doesn’t mean all my struggles and proclivities vanished overnight. I still carry many of them. But I now know someone paid the ultimate price for my soul. That I was forgiven, and all I could do is look up.  After years of wandering lots in the wilderness. For the first time I felt like a train on its tracks.

Soon after, I married that woman I met in the shop. My life found new direction and purpose. I’ve since had the privilege of meeting amazing tattoo artists who have become true brothers—mentors who have shaped the artist I am today.

Now, after more than twelve years of tattooing professionally, and owning my own private tattoo studio I’m still in love with the craft just like the first day, and excited for what the future holds. 

“ I am blessed to live in a generation that consider tattoos a true art form.  One of the most ancient and amazing skills to master, combined with a living canvas. This is the blend of tradition, religion, street art, and most importantly, the personality of the collector. As for me, right here , right now still in this never ending pursuit of perfection.

You might love my style or hate it, but at the and is just my way. It is my pleasure to make part of your skin a living artwork piece.

One life, one love, one purpose.  My art is a reflection of my life.  Not only an image, but a mirror in my mind. The purpose is to plant a seed of truth.  A message… a quiet voice that is rarely heard.  Stop, look, listen, inside yourself and you will realize what is truly needed.”

Raymundo Angulo