I'm Bryson Cwick. I grew up in Central California surrounded by agriculture and coastline — two ecosystems that taught me to look closely at living things. I studied at UC Berkeley, worked in bioremediation, and spent time on environmental response during the BP oil spill.

When I looked through a microscope, I saw design. Radial symmetry in diatoms. The fractal branching of mycelium. The way a jellyfish moves like a cathedral collapsing in slow motion. I was drawing these things in the margins of lab notebooks long before I picked up a tattoo needle.

Covid cracked the path open. I started tattooing — first handpoke, then machine, now both. The precision I learned measuring contaminants in soil transfers directly to placing ink in skin. The patience required to watch a culture grow is the same patience handpoke demands.

Now I work out of Lair Atelier in Chicago, with guest spots in LA and NYC. My work lives in the overlap between gothic ornamentation, botanical illustration, and the biological forms I spent years studying. Thorned frames, blooming organisms, things that are beautiful because they're dangerous or strange.