Today we’d like to introduce you to Claire Lathrop.
Hi claire, can you start by introducing yourself? We’d love to learn more about how you got to where you are today?
For as long as I can remember, I was an artist. Not just in the sense that I liked art class, but that I knew creating things and sharing them with people was what I wanted to spend my life doing. I wanted to make work that helped people express something about themselves. That hasn’t changed, but the medium certainly has.
I graduated from the Kansas City Art Institute, where my instincts as an artist gained discipline. There, my understanding of design, composition, and flow were sharpened and I learned the language to explain things I’d previously only understood intuitively. Before KCAI, I could feel when something worked. Afterward, I could explain why.
During college, I became interested in challenging my attachment to material things and seeing what life could look like if I prioritized experiences and creating art over possessions. So I sold everything and started traveling. I painted murals, live-painted at festivals and events, and made art wherever I happened to be that week. It taught me to adapt, work with different people, and create outside the comfort of a traditional studio.
Somewhere along the way, I realized painting wasn’t quite the medium I was looking for. Tattooing was. It brought together everything I’d been trying to accomplish through art: intention, intuition, collaboration, and the opportunity to create something deeply personal for another person. Unlike a painting, a tattoo becomes part of someone’s identity and travels through life with them. I found that incredibly meaningful.
I completed my tattoo apprenticeship in Guatemala, where I also learned Spanish while living and working alongside my mentors. From there, I spent roughly three years tattooing internationally, guesting in shops across different countries and learning from the artists and cultures I encountered.
After five years of traveling full-time, I eventually returned to Kansas. I realized that the kind of tattooing I wanted to pursue required something that constant travel couldn’t always offer: time. I wanted to create larger, more intricate projects, build lasting relationships with clients, and see those projects through from beginning to end.
Today, I work in a private studio, seeing just one client a day. It’s a slower, more personal approach, but it allows me to give each person and each piece the attention it deserves.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
Honestly, in many ways, it has been a pretty smooth road. Not because everything has been easy, but because I’ve always had a strong sense of what I wanted my life and work to look like. I’ve found that when I’m making decisions that reflect those values, even the challenging parts feel worthwhile.
The biggest struggles have come when I’ve lost sight of that. When life gets busy, it’s easy to start measuring success by productivity, money, or how much you can fit into a day rather than the quality and meaning of what you’re creating. I’ve always approached tattooing as something more than a transaction. I work with one client a day, show up rested and present, and try to create an environment where people feel comfortable being themselves. I believe the energy, intention, and attention I bring into a session matter, especially when I’m creating something that person will carry for the rest of their life.
Sometimes the challenge is simply protecting that approach in a world that constantly encourages us to do more, move faster, and produce more. I feel incredibly fortunate can share something I love with people. I help them express themselves in ways that feel authentic. The hardest moments haven’t necessarily been obstacles in my career, but the times I’ve had to remind myself why I chose this path in the first place.
Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
I specialize in large-scale geometric and ornamental blackwork, both as standalone pieces and integrated with realism. Symmetry is a huge part of my work, whether that’s matching feet and ankles, paired shins or calves, or larger compositions that flow together across the body. I design everything from scratch, including my geometric patterns, with a strong emphasis on how the artwork complements the natural shape and movement of the body.
My favorite projects are the ones where clients give me creative freedom within a few clear parameters; rather than coming to me with a fully developed design, they might share an idea, a feeling, or something they’re hoping to express through the tattoo. I love taking that and translating it into something visually beautiful and uniquely theirs.
Beyond the artwork itself, I take a very intentional, and often spiritual, approach to tattooing.
I believe tattooing can be an incredibly powerful experience, not just because of the finished piece, but because of what happens during the process. Pain is an unavoidable part of tattooing, but I don’t necessarily see it as something we have to rush or distract ourselves from. When approached intentionally, it can become an opportunity to practice being present, accept what is, reflect on something meaningful, or acknowledge a change we’re already experiencing in our lives.
Some clients come to me wanting to let go of something, mark a new chapter, or invite something different into their lives, others simply feel drawn to a design without knowing exactly why. I think there’s something beautiful about allowing that meaning to unfold naturally, sometimes even during the tattoo itself.
That said, the intentional process is always optional. For clients who are interested, we might begin with tea, a written intention, or a short meditation. Some prefer to sit quietly and reflect during the session, while others want to talk, laugh, or watch something. There’s no right way to experience it. My goal is simply to create a warm, calm environment where people feel safe and supported, whatever that looks like for them.
I spent nearly ten years getting tattooed before becoming a tattoo artist myself, and much of what I’ve created in my studio is the environment I wish I’d experienced more often as a client: a private space, no pressure to rush, and the opportunity to make the experience as meaningful as the finished artwork.
What I’m most proud of isn’t necessarily a single tattoo. It’s the clients who come back and tell me that something about our session genuinely changed the way they see themselves or their lives. Sometimes, it’s a realization that comes through the intentional process, or recognizing something in their relationships, careers, or lives that no longer serves them. Other times, it’s simply seeing themselves differently through the artwork they now carry. Those moments mean so much to me because they remind me that what we create together can extend far beyond the tattoo itself.
I’m equally proud of the clients who commit to large-scale projects over multiple sessions. An entire sleeve, back, or torso can take an enormous amount of time, patience, and trust. They’re trusting me with something they’ll carry for the rest of their lives, and that’s a responsibility I don’t take lightly.
Ultimately, I think what sets me apart is the combination of my artistic style and my approach to the transformational experience itself. I don’t want to simply execute an image someone brings me. I want to understand what they’re trying to express, interpret that through my own artistic perspective, and create something that feels like it belongs on their body. The private studio, the single-client days, and the intentional process aren’t just about creating a certain atmosphere. They’re choices I’ve made because I believe they allow me to create better work and more meaningful experiences for the people who trust me with their skin.
What was your favorite childhood memory?
Making art at my grandparents’ kitchen table.
They would clear off the entire table and buy me whatever I wanted to experiment with that week: colored paper, bingo daubers, and all kinds of things that probably had no business being art supplies. There was never an expectation of what I was supposed to make or how it was supposed to turn out. The whole point was simply to create.
Some of my favorite childhood memories are of having that curiosity encouraged so wholeheartedly. Looking back, I think those moments helped me understand that art wasn’t just something I enjoyed doing. It was something worth making.
I’ve been incredibly fortunate that the support never really stopped; it just took different forms. It started with unlimited paper at my grandparents’ kitchen table, then became promoters who hired me to live-paint before I probably had any business being hired, and people who bought my early prints and paintings while I was still figuring out who I was as an artist.
The materials changed, the opportunities grew, and the stakes became a little bigger, but the feeling underneath it all has stayed the same. Someone believed what I was creating was worth making room for, even before I fully understood what I was creating myself.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.artofclairvoyage.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/clair.voyage.tattoo
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ArtofClairVoyage
