MY DEMONS LIVE WITHIN YOU TOO
There's a photograph Celia Dunne (@celiadunne_tattoos) took at the end of a tattoo session that started everything. The client had arrived nervous. The kind of nervous that shows in how someone holds their body, how they answer questions in one-word increments, how they look at the door or clock a little longer than they need to. By the time the session was done, she looked like something from a Renaissance portrait. Powerful. Completely herself.
"The transformation from when she'd very first sent me the enquiry was insane," Celia says. "I knew I had to build this into something bigger."
That photograph is the seed of _My Demons Live Within You Too_ , Celia's first solo exhibition, opening October 9 at M2 Gallery in Surry Hills. Shot over the past year in collaboration with photographer Tom Wilkinson, it's a show built around a simple observation: that tattooing transforms people in ways that are visible, capturable and worth documenting properly.
Celia has been tattooing for twelve years, currently working out of Lighthouse Tattoo (@lighthouse_tattoo) in Surry Hills. Her work is hard to pin down in the way that good work usually is: vampire tribal, ornamental freehand, paintings over classical compositions, lettering. Bold, considered, dark in a way that draws you in rather than pushes you away. She describes it as "antisocial, transformative, dark and sometimes off-putting — but regardless of all factors, something you're drawn to whether consciously or not."
__Celia Dunne's work. Vampire tribal, ornamental, unclassifiable.__ Photo: supplied by @celiadunne_tattoos __Two more of Celia Dunne's tattoos. Illustrative, dark.__ Photo: supplied by @celiadunne_tattoos
She doesn't draw a line between Celia the tattooist and Celia the artist. "Tattooing is just another medium at the end of the day, much like pen and paper," she says. "It only becomes more sacred because in tattooing's case the medium is sentient."
A painting teaches her something she folds into the next tattoo. A sketch she made in Thailand, studying the gnarled root systems of trees she kept passing in the streets, turned up months later in the way ornamental work started flowing differently across a body. Arthur Rimbaud's _A Season in Hell_ is her favourite book of poetry, and the author was shot in the palm by his lover, so the title is tattooed on her palm. It felt right. It's the name of her online store.
She reads voraciously, travels when she can, consumes everything she finds interesting. "I find there's never enough time to gain all the world has to offer," she says, "and I'm often tortured by this fact."
__Celia Dunne.__ Photo: Tom Wilkinson (Supplied)
The exhibition title came to her late at night, when her mind is most active. It came the way the best things tend to come: not worked towards, just suddenly there.
_My Demons Live Within You Too_ is, in part, a confession. Celia doesn't shy away from saying so. It's about what led her to tattooing in the first place: a house fire, foster homes, and drawing and creating as the one constant through all of it.
"When the world around you isn't the greatest," she says, "you can always build a world of your own."
Art was always her escape. Tattooing became her structure. She was young when she started. A teenager, and by her own description, nihilistic and reckless and carrying a lot of anger. The chair taught her things she hadn't been taught elsewhere: grace, patience, discipline, humility. Her clients gave her a life she hadn't imagined was possible.
The title isn't as dark as it might first appear. It's about transfer. The exchange of energy that happens in a session. The way something of the artist stays with the person wearing the work. The way new things get built on top of old ones.
"Now my demons live within you too," she says, "and that's not meant to be a negative statement at all. I simply now build new worlds for my clients also."
__Tom Wilkinson's photography for the show. Long exposure, deliberately blurred.__ Photo: Tom Wilkinson
The photography was always going to be Tom Wilkinson's (@tomwilkinson__). She'd worked with him twice before and knew almost immediately that his work was what the project needed. He makes long-exposure portraits. Ghostly movement, blurred flow, technically out of focus but completely alive. There's something in that quality, the way his images feel in motion even when still, that suits exactly what Celia was trying to capture.
"It's a rare quality to possess," she says, "to capture a photo that's an artwork in itself, and to also truly see the model."
She choreographed the shoots herself, working with clients who in many cases had never been photographed properly before. She guided their movements the way she guides a session: slowly, patiently, letting the guard come down at its own pace. More than a few came back afterwards wanting to do more.
"I think being behind a lens is so empowering," she says. "To preserve a moment in time where you felt yourself."
The show also includes 3D sculptures made with her collaborator Ross Jenkinson, and writing she's been developing alongside everything else. She's been a perfectionist about all of it, which is the only way she knows how to work.
What's actually in the room on October 9? She's not saying.
"You'll just have to come see on the day," she says, with the kind of confidence that only comes from knowing exactly what you've made.
Shooting for the exhibition. Photo: supplied by @celiadunne_tattoos
One thing Celia said in this interview sits apart from the rest of it.
A client came to her regularly over a period of years. She was terminally ill, wheelchair-bound and tattooed until near the end. Shortly before she died, she sent Celia a message thanking her for the sessions. For the joy they'd brought her.
"I think of her a lot," Celia says. "And how much of a responsibility you hold as an artist to have a genuine impact on a person's life. It's not something to take lightly."
That responsibility sits underneath the exhibition. Not the tattoos as objects, not the photography as craft, not even the transformation as spectacle. The fact that someone can come to you nervous and leave completely themselves. That it's worth documenting. Worth spending a year building something around.
The client who started the whole thing arrived nervous. Celia took a photograph when she left.
Now it's an exhibition.
_My Demons Live Within You Too_ opens October 9, 6–9pm, at M2 Gallery, Surry Hills. It's Celia Dunne's first solo exhibition. And more than likely, it won't be her last.
__"My Demons Live Within You Too" — opening 9th October, M2 Gallery.__ Artwork: Tom Wilkinson supplied by @celiadunne_tattoos
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@celiadunne_tattoos_| Photography:_ @tomwilkinson___|_ @lighthouse_tattoo_, Surry Hills | M2 Gallery, October 9th, 6–9pm_