Overview:
As artificial intelligence enters tattoo studios, Colorado tattoo artists debate whether AI is a helpful tool or a threat.
When Boulder tattoo artist Frank Campos receives a reference image from a client, an angel holding a sword and draped in a robe, the next step used to be straightforward: sketch, revise and sketch again.
Today, that process sometimes includes something new. Campos uploads the image into an AI generator, prompting the software to simplify the background and correct anatomical errors. A few edits later, the revised image becomes the basis for a consultation, not a final design, but a clearer starting point.
“You can draw something for somebody and they’ll hate it, and you might think you did a great job,” Campos said. “So, to eliminate that negative emotion that happens a lot of the time in the creative process gives me a leg up. Have AI generate something for you that it bases off of the image you sent so that I can create something for you; I know the direction you want.”

As artificial intelligence reshapes creative industries from graphic design to music, tattoo artists are beginning to wrestle with where or whether the technology fits into a craft built on human labor, trust and physical connection. For some, AI is a practical tool that saves time and reduces burnout. For others, it represents a troubling shift away from the hard-earned skills and personal sacrifice that have long defined the profession.
Campos, who opened Boulder tattoo shop Tattoo Study Lounge in 2022, sees AI as a resource rather than a replacement. He says the technology can help eliminate frustration in the consultation process, when artists spend hours drawing designs clients ultimately reject.
“It’s just a resource, a reference,” Campos said. “I prefer to not use stuff like that, but like I said, I’m just here to apply.”

To internationally recognized artist Tehani Da Rocha, the conversation around AI is inseparable from labor and sustainability. Da Rocha has been tattooing for nearly 19 years, beginning as a teenager apprenticing with a cousin in Brazil after her family noticed her drawing ability.
Since moving to Colorado within the last year, she has been preparing to open Royal Blood Tattoo Studios in Colorado Springs. Da Rocha says tattooing has always demanded long hours and physical endurance, and she believes AI can help artists reclaim time without diminishing the meaning of the work.

“A lot of people are misunderstanding what AI is doing,” Rocha said. “You’re just using it to move faster because time is money and money is time. And if that time you’re taking up by designing every single day is being taken away from you—spending time with your family, spending time doing other things that you want to do—you are overworking yourself to the point where you can’t even eat.”
While tattoos were once considered taboo and are now widely accepted, Da Rocha says the value of the work has always rested not just in the ink, but in the artist. She argues that AI can help address long-standing issues of burnout, underpayment and lack of respect in the field, though she acknowledges not everyone agrees.
That resistance is perhaps most strongly voiced by the Colorado tattoo artist known as Piper, whose career began under far different circumstances. Piper discovered tattooing while serving a 12-year prison sentence, despite tattooing being illegal for inmates in Colorado. He received additional time for continuing to tattoo, hiding makeshift equipment and mailing sketches to his mother to prevent them from being confiscated.
After his release, Piper built a professional career and published his own book, “American Inkslinger: The Confessions and Illustrations of a Penitentiary Tattoo Artist.” He describes himself as an old-school artist, shaped by an era when tattoos were less socially accepted and apprenticeships were harder to secure.

“We couldn’t go on Google and see what everybody’s doing,” Piper said. “And in 1999 all that time tattooing was not accepted. If you had a visible tattoo showing, you would not get a job.”
Since those days tattoos have gained widespread acceptance, but market saturation and economic pressures, especially for Gen Z and Millennials, has led to a downturn in the industry. Piper recently created an anti-AI T-shirt series called “Pipeaganda,” reflecting his skepticism of technology’s growing role in creative fields. While some artists have described the current slowdown in tattoo work as a recession, Piper frames it differently.
“It’s not a recession,” he said. “It’s a reset.” Piper mentions that those who still continue to do the work with AI are the few that will still be able to understand the worth of the career as an artist.

Lakewood artist Nicole Kendrick at Illusia Tattoos also has some concerns with AI.
“I think AI can be a great tool for reference, not a polished, finished product,” Kendrick said. “But I am also against AI for environmental reasons just as much as artistic integrity as well. I do think the industry is hurting right now and it needs healing. But, everything finds a way and tattooing isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. I’m going to continue to be passionate and stand up for what I believe in for this industry and be the best that I can be.”
While artists like Campos and Da Rocha view AI as a tool that can help manage stress and workload, artists like Kendrick and Piper remain cautious. They are worried that reliance on programs and generators risks eroding the creative struggle that gives tattooing its meaning.
“As people step outside to touch grass to feel nature, artists must step away from screens and touch paint to feel human,” Piper said. “I think one big thing is with humans is we need to create. If we’re not creating, we’re just consumers.”


