- take your old blankets and towels and any pet toys or things to the local no-kill shelter. If you have time, volunteer to walk the dogs, or play with the cats.
- take all your canned food that you didn’t eat or use down to food for lane county. especially if it’s good stuff.
- take all your books that you’ve already read, to the local literacy center. in eugene there’s one downtown that teaches people to read.
- take your old clothes, wash em, and give them to goodwill.
- volunteer to go to a nursing home and visit people who don’t have relatives that visit. You can offer to record memoirs (often single people without kids have led very interesting lives)
- let someone who looks more tired than you have your seat.
Everyone can do something. Seriously.
I don’t have a lot of time but I do what I can, and my politics have nothing to do with it.
But I think we should do it.
Promotion comes easily to a lot of tattooers. When I first started tattooing, I was shy, a hermit. I disliked talking to people and pretty much felt uncomfortable in my own skin. I did not, and do not now, have great social skills and an outgoing personality. I also have always been a geek, nerd, dork. A skank. A weirdo. Not popular.
Promotion requires friendliness. You have to like people, to convince them that there is good reason for them to come to you for their visual needs. Yes, skill and talent and innate genius go a long way, but not all the way. You have to learn to shake hands and smile. To play nice.
I discovered, after tattooing for a few years, that I genuinely liked the people I was working on. Tattoo clientele vary regionally of course, but I found that even the “worst” client base were people that I naturally thought were pretty cool. They wanted to get a tattoo. Often they were witty, or silly, or just interesting. I decided I liked these people.