She got her first tattoo at the age of 65. Now she is 17 years old and feels like watching
Sandy Althouse walked into the Silver Lake gift shop dressed in an almost plain, simple black dress, her wavy black hair slicked back at the temples. She carried herself like an older and wiser, if somewhat serious, woman—but with a twist. Both of her arms were covered in freshly inked tattoos, her left arm still wrapped in clear cellophane.
Sorry, but I have to ask: Is this your first tattoo? I told about the colorful images that spread from the top of her shoulders to her arms.
“They are,” she said proudly. “I’ve had it all since May.”
It was September.
“I want to know more,” I wondered about what inspired so many tattoos in such a short time, and all signed later in life.
Sandy Althouse gets her 17 tattoos in five months, most of which are famous 20th-century paintings or historically significant neon signs.
(Julianna Yamada/Los Angeles Times)
It turns out Althouse, who lives in the Bay Area, was on what she calls a “tattoo trip,” in what she describes as an intentional act of self-care. She told me that her husband of 35 years had recently been diagnosed with a serious illness and Althouse had become his caretaker despite the heartbreak while working full-time as a radio announcer at KQED in San Francisco.
Getting a tattoo is a way for Althouse to shift the focus back to herself, she explained to me, to stay strong and resilient — for herself and her family. Sitting in a tattoo studio chair and feeling the needle stick for up to seven hours is a repetitive, almost meditative practice that helps her stay in the present, she said. According to Althouse, it helps reduce emotional pain, giving it a physical form—a release of sorts.
“We’re dealing with a serious diagnosis,” Althuss said of her husband. “It’s a new part of life. Something new has changed him – and me – and I just feel like why not do something that takes me somewhere new, a new adventure.”
She explains that searching online for images of tattoos she wants to put on her body—mostly famous 20th-century paintings and historically significant neon signs—and deciding where they’ll go is a creative hurdle in such dire times.
And talking to different tattoo artists while they work on her body creates an almost personal relationship.
“There’s a sensual nature to it—humans touch you,” Althuss said. “I don’t wear headphones; I like to talk. You meet someone new and they leave something permanent in you that will change you forever. It’s a very deep connection.”
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The journey so far – 17 tattoos so far – has provided training and even inspiration.
Althouse explained it all on a chilly October afternoon recently, while sitting in a chair at Ganga Tattoo Studio in West Hollywood. He frequently gets tattoos in the Bay Area, but also finds L.A. artists he admires on Instagram and goes on “tattoo tours” here.
Today, he gets a tattoo of Edward Hooper’s 1957 painting “Western Motel,” which artist Mae Soria is finishing when I arrive. All of Althouse’s tattoos are done in a detailed, lifelike “microrealism” style, and Hooper’s image is strikingly similar to the original work of art. In the oil painting, a young woman in a red dress sits on the edge of a car bed, holding tightly to a footboard. Expansive windows overlook a classic car and a wide, open western landscape of mountains.
“I feel like this woman has some mystery and power,” Althouse says, as Surya heals the woman’s leg. “He gives you a lot of space to decide what he thinks and what he says.”
So does Althouse, who has a deep, husky radio-announcer voice and often pauses for deep thought before answering questions.
1. Sandy Althouse shows off her arm tattoo of historic neon signs. 2. Tattoo ink packs in a rainbow of bright colors. 3. Sandy Althouse’s completed tattoo of Edward Hopper’s “Western Motel”. (Juliana Yamada/Los Angeles Times)
“I want to be strong, and I want to be brave, and I want to be wise — and I feel like those things kind of represent,” she said of her tattoo.
Althouse had never considered getting a tattoo until shortly before traveling to Italy in May with her husband and two sons, Ethan Wallace, 29, and Xander Wallace, 27. Then, a few weeks before the trip, caught up in caregiving responsibilities and travel planning, the idea felt a little odd. She found an “old-time” radio microphone and an “on the air” sign and brought it to a tattoo studio in Rome where she admired the work online. Artist Giorgia Mastrosanti has it tattooed on the inside of her right arm, a discreet but still striking spot.
“Last year I was inducted into the Bay Area Radio Hall of Fame, which is a tremendous honor,” Althouse said. “I wanted to document how I spent a good part of my life – and that was on the radio.”
Her second tattoo, which she got the next day from Mastrosanti, was the neon sign of Club Carlos in San Carlos on her right arm. A few days later she found a picture of a 40s-era backlit radio on the inside of her left arm.
In addition to working in radio, Althouse is a fiber artist who currently works in Need. “I’m really connected to art,” she said. “And this [tattoo journey] is a true ongoing art project.
In late September, Althouse got two more famous paintings tattooed on the same “gallery wall” that is her left arm: Amedeo Modigliani’s 1917 “Jeune Femme (Totot de la Gait)” and Gino Severini’s “Sea = Dancer.” She got the tattoo from LA artist Levi Ellorega who was in residency at Black Serum in San Francisco at the time.
“You get to middle age and you get a lot of attention—you don’t get noticed,” Althouse says. “And I feel like I’ve been seen now, I’m just glad to see you again.”
(Juliana Yamada/Los Angeles Times)
“I have never been taken by a painting as much as I was with it [the Severini]. Just vibrant, there was so much movement to it — it was almost singing,” she said.
Alt House’s right hand side now looks more cheerful than the historic neon signs – the Le Po Cocktail Lounge in San Francisco’s Chinatown and the Vue Alcatraz sign among them. She was drawn to the brightness and vibrant color of neon signs, adding that they are “incredible and admirable works of art.”
The process of designing “art walls” in her own hands is also healing – it provides joy and distraction. Althouse approaches this process as if he were a curator at a museum exhibit. She tapes maquettes—in this case, paper cutouts of drawings—to her hand, fine-tuning the layout. Then she gives her tattoo artist a digital image of the work.
During my visit, Surya used a large image of Hopper’s painting on his iPad. As part of the tattoo, Surya designed a mid-century modern wooden frame for the painting. She placed tattoo stencils on Althouse’s arm before they started that morning, tweaking the size and placement of the tattoo.
“It doesn’t really hurt that much,” Althouse said as Surya dipped his hand with the needle that had just dipped into the pot of black ink. “Just a little pain, you feel alive.”
Some people might look at her strangely when she’s in the tattoo chair – “What’s that old man doing?” she said But turning old swords on their heads is part of the joy of this journey.
“The people who get it [tattoos] “Understood,” Althouse said. And I think maybe some people, especially young people, think she’s kind of ugly. I like it. That’s fine with me.”
Making her way in the world, as a woman in midlife, feels different now with tattoos.
“You get to middle age and you get a lot of attention — you don’t get noticed,” Althouse said. “And I feel like I’ve been seen now, I’m just glad to see you again.”
1. Artist May Soria finishes at Sandy Althouse in Edward Hopper’s “Western Motel.” 2. Sandy Althouse shows off her first tattoo, an old-time radio microphone and an “on the air” sign. (Julianna Yamada/Los Angeles Times)
Surya said he has more than 60 clients. Getting a tattoo later in life meant something to her.
“You have a lot of experience in life, so have a lot of stories to tell [through tattoos]”You know what you want,” he says.
As if on cue, an old man in a baseball cap and rain jacket walks by, leaning in to get a close-up view of Althouse’s tattoo progress.
“Amazing. Just amazing. There’s one of his tattoos, a picture of a harmonica with wings, erased,” said Ames Bills, 70. “Can I take a picture to show my wife?” I want to take it.”
“See? It’s never too late to get a tattoo,” Althouse said.
Althouse is now going through the “canvas” on her body, as she primarily wants tattoos on her arms and legs. He has room for two or three more. The future? A painting by Marcel Duchamp and possibly a work by Mark Rothko or Ruth Aswa.
As the althouse moves to five o’clock in Surya’s chair, the tattoo is almost finished. It will end up costing $1,500, but it’s worth it, Althouse said. (“That’s the other thing about getting them in life, you have more money,” she added.)
She looks at herself in the mirror, a mixture of pride and sadness on her face.
“I just need to prepare myself,” she said. “I need to brace myself. Because it’s only getting harder. And this—”
She held her hand with one hand.
“- that reminds me to do that.”
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