Just Keep Swimming: A Conversation with BRIAN KEITH THOMPSON

Photography by JATHAN CAMPBELL

Words by Kiani Shabazz

If you’ve ever wandered through L.A.’s eclectic neighborhoods, chances are you’ve heard of Brian Keith Thompson, an inspired artist and celebrated figure in the tattoo and body art scene. As the owner of the city’s landmark tattoo and piercing shop, Body Electric, on Melrose, he has styled the ears of celebrities like Beyoncé, Scarlett Johansson, and Kendall Jenner, making his signature constellation piercing a must- have look among trendsetters and body modification enthusiasts from near and far. Yet, behind the studio’s vibrant energy lies a deeper, slightly darker narrative—a story of survival, reinvention, and the ultimate redemption.

Thompson’s journey started in the underbelly of Los Angeles, a place where beauty and chaos often coexist. Born in Texas and raised on the streets of L.A., he was drawn into gang life as a teenager, earning the nickname “Gaba” for his fair skin in a predominantly Mexican gang. As a young troublemaker, he was thrust into a world of fast choices and severe consequences. After serving time for a crime he didn’t commit, Thompson resurfaced with clarity and an urgent need to rewrite his story. He began this shift by covering his gang tattoos, replacing pain with artistry and defiance with intention.

Today, Thompson portrays the power of self-belief. He shows us what can happen when you bet on yourself. By believing in your own worth and being open to accepting change, you expand your capacity for personal growth and can achieve feats that once seemed impossible. Navigating through rebellion and rebirth, Thompson created a path all his own—and we’re absolutely here for it.

Describe the young version of Brian Keith Thompson.
You know, I was a very little, skinny, short kid. I’ve always looked younger than I was, and I was picked on heavily. I never quite fit into the group. I was never in a box that you could check off, but my mind was always going, and I was always a little different.

You mentioned that when you moved to L.A., you felt like you could finally be yourself. What was it about the city’s culture that was so transformative for you?
My dad moved to L.A. in 1984. My mom and I were having difficulties because I was getting lippy with everyone and lashing out in other ways. So, she sent me to visit my dad out there, and I moved to L.A. the next year. I was really into the city because of how it made me feel. It wasn’t judgmental. I was coming from Dallas in the early ‘80s, where there was no culture. Everyone was a Christian and a Republican, and you had to fit into that mold. But here in L.A., you’re immersed in culture and difference.

Tell me about your love for metal music. What was it about that subculture that you identified with during your early years?
They were the outliers. They were tattooed, had long hair, and were the “other.” They didn’t fit into society, and I wanted to be part of that. I didn’t want to be with main- stream society, and I just identified with that. Plus, I loved the music. It was all about sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll. It was a party vibe. It was all about having a good time. I also liked the anti-establishment aspect of it. It’s funny, because right after high school, I joined the Marine Corps, and then I was part of the establishment.

Why did you end up joining the military, given your anti-establishment mentality?
I did it because I wanted to prove to myself that I could hack the system and that I was tough enough. I wanted to show that I wasn’t what people said that I was. As much as they hurt me, I never wanted to hurt society. I wanted to protect it in a weird way—the people who deserved to be protected, the people who I felt were like me.

At what point did you realize you had a passion for body art?
Well, I was in a gang, and my brother, Junior, found this tattoo artist named Bob Lee. They took me to him one day in 1992, and I got my chest tattooed with a “Smile Now, Cry Later” face. It was really popular in the gang scene back then. It was a motto, like, have fun now, pay for your actions later type of thing. I think I liked tattooing because it allowed me to change myself. It’s really hard to pick yourself up out of that stuff because sometimes you can become addicted to feeling bad.

How did you move away from a “woe is me” mindset?
Oh, dude, I don’t know. That’s really hard because we’re all on our own journey. Piercing and body art is where I found solace, but not everyone will find that. I still struggle with things to this day at 53. We’re all living this reality, but it’s just a human-made construct. I’ve wanted to give up many times. Thank goodness I didn’t, because then I bought this place and my life changed. When did it become clear that piercing was your life’s path and not just a job? We’re all on a different journey, and some people find their path. You know how people say that everything happens for a reason? If I hadn’t met this gang, I wouldn’t have met Jose. And then I wouldn’t have gone to prison necessarily. I wouldn’t have been in North Hollywood on parole and met this dude, Gypsy, who told me about Body Electric. Then I wouldn’t have come here, and I wouldn’t have been friends with a tattoo artist. And then I wouldn’t have bought the place.

As a business owner, creative, and entrepreneur, there are a many highs and lows throughout your career. How do you navigate the ups and downs?
God, that’s such a good question because that’s the whole secret to finding how to be happy in life, right? That’s what the true feeling of happiness is—figuring out who you are, becoming confident with where you’re at, and accepting it. Sometimes I say it like this: some years in business, you’ve got to be like a platoon of Marines. You’ve got to dig in and hold your ground. You know, you just got to hold that ground you got, and you’re not moving forward and you’re not moving backwards so much, but you just got to hold it down.

You’ve found comfort in structure and discipline, whether that came from your experience in the Marines, gangs, or time served in prison. How have these experiences contributed to your development as an individual?
Yeah. That’s what we can hope, right? There is a really great book called The Road Less Traveled. The first sentence in the book is life is difficult, and it goes on to explain that it’s only difficult if you believe it’s not. If you truly transcend the fact that life is difficult, then it no longer is because it’s just life. You know, it’s only difficult if you feel like your problems are, or that you’re suffering more than other people are. I really take myself to task when I make mistakes, and I try to correct them and try to get better. It’s just like Dory said in Finding Nemo, you just have to keep swimming.