Arts & Entertainment
The skin game
Baltimore-area gay tattoo artist competes on new reality TV show

Nicky Hennerez, a gay Glen Burnie, Md., resident and tattoo artist, is on the new reality competition show ‘Best Ink.’ It debuts Tuesday night on Oxygen. (Blade photo by Michael Key)
Watch any gay porn and you know the, ahem, actors there are pretty inked up. And it’s not hard to find heavily tattooed arms on any given night at Town or the Hippo.
“I think gays like tattoos as much as the straight world,” says Nicky Hennerez. “It’s funny you mention porn because I notice the gay porn stars who have them, the tattoos are usually really bad … they have all these tribal tattoos, which don’t mean anything, and they’re usually just not well done.”
And he should know — the 29-year-old Glen Burnie, Md., resident competed last August and into early September in a California-based reality show the goal of which was to find the country’s most talented tattoo artist. “Best Ink” debuts Tuesday night at 10 on Oxygen. He’s the only gay contestant of the 10 on the show. It runs for eight consecutive weeks and, of course, Hennerez isn’t at liberty to divulge any details except to say the shoot was “just awesome.” The only downside? Being separated from his boyfriend of two years, Josh Crossney.
“They took away our phones and everything,” he says. “I was missing him so much. We only got to talk, like, a couple times and even that was monitored. That part sucked but otherwise, it was a blast.”
Hennerez had tried out for a reality show once before in New York back in 2010 but didn’t make the cut. He saw the “Best Ink” notice for participants on Craigslist and, on a whim, started the process. He’s been tattooing for about four years. He started an apprenticeship in 2006. He was in to get one himself and the shop owner was impressed with his sketchbook and said he should learn the art.
Hennerez, who’s been out since he was 16, says during the shoot he was fine with being out and nobody in the cast or crew made a big deal about it. He says during promotional efforts with the network, it’s become a bit tiresome, though.
“We’re shooting all these commercials and online clips and stuff,” he says. “They keep asking me, ‘How does it feel to be a gay tattoo artist?’ I’m thinking, ‘They’re not asking everyone else how it feels to be a straight tattoo artist.’ So I kinda had to shut it down. But it wasn’t even an issue when we were taping.”
He always wanted tattoos as a teen but his mom forbade it until he was 18. He’s glad now she was adamant about it because he says he would have regretted the tattoos he wanted at the time. But on his 18th birthday, he got his first, a skull and crossbones on his arm. It’s now hard to say how many he has now — could be anywhere from 16 to 20 depending on how you count. Some have been added to and others blend together. He has them on his arms, neck, rib cage, back, thighs, legs, one calf, fingers and part of his hands. None yet on his chest — he says that’s on his “next” list because it “looks kinda bare there.”
“When I was younger, it was totally an image thing,” he says. “I was like a little punk rocker with crazy-colored hair and this crazy image thing. Now I just find it completely therapeutic. It’s such a milestone every time you get one. You get it more for a reason and you end up having these deep conversations with the artist. The more you get them, the more you start to feel good when you get them. I find they don’t hurt now for me. I know that sounds weird, but I really like the experience.”
Crossney lets Hennerez work on him. Crossney has about 10 himself now. They met in Hennerez’s old tattoo shop in Pasadena, Md., but bonded recovering from a car accident they were in together (neither was driving) in Dec. 2009. One of Crossney’s friends ran into a parked snowplow trying to avoid a drunk driver.
Hennerez says the shop in Pasadena (the now-closed Positive Image) was somewhat homophobic and his co-workers would crack anti-gay jokes at his expense. He’s much more comfortable at his current shop, Tattooed Heart in Glen Burnie.
And though he’s nervous about how he’ll come off on the show, he says the experience brought out his competitive side.
“I’m definitely a competitive person but I don’t like to let on that I am,” he says. “I act like I don’t care even if I do, so I internalize a lot of it. But I was definitely striving to win … it was very fun overall. I loved my castmates, they were amazing and it really changed my life. It gave me so much more confidence.”
Denali (@denalifoxx) of “RuPaul’s Drag Race” performed at Pitchers DC on April 9 for the Thirst Trap Thursday drag show. Other performers included Cake Pop!, Brooke N Hymen, Stacy Monique-Max and Silver Ware Sidora.
(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)














Arts & Entertainment
In an act of artistic defiance, Baltimore Center Stage stays focused on DEI
‘Maybe it’s a triple-down’
By LESLIE GRAY STREETER | I’m always tickled when people complain about artists “going political.” The inherent nature of art, of creation and free expression, is political. This becomes obvious when entire governments try to threaten it out of existence, like in 2025, when the brand-new presidential administration demanded organizations halt so-called diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) programming or risk federal funding.
Baltimore Center Stage’s response? A resounding and hearty “Nah.” A year later, they’re still doubling down on diversity.
“Maybe it’s a triple-down,” said Ken-Matt Martin, the theater’s producing director, chuckling.
The rest of this article can be found on the Baltimore Banner’s website.
‘La Lucci’
By Susan Lucci with Laura Morton
c.2026, Blackstone Publishing
$29.99/196 pages
They’re among the world’s greatest love stories.
You know them well: Marc Antony and Cleopatra. Abelard and Heloise. Phoebe and Langley. Cliff and Nina. Jesse and Angie, Opal and Palmer, Palmer and Daisy, Tad and Dixie. Now read “La Lucci” by Susan Lucci, with Laura Morton, and you might also think of Susan and Helmut.

When she was a very small girl, Susan Lucci loved to perform. Also when she was young, she learned that words have power. She vowed to use them for good for the rest of her life.
Her parents, she says, were supportive and her family, loving. Because of her Italian heritage, she was “ethnic looking” but Lucci’s mother was careful to point out dark-haired beauties on TV and elsewhere, giving Lucci a foundation of confidence.
That’s just one of the things for which Lucci says she’s grateful. In fact, she says, “Prayers of gratitude are how I begin and end each day.”
She is particularly grateful for becoming a mother to her two adult children, and to the doctors who saved her son’s life when he was a newborn.
Lucci writes about gratitude for her long career. She was a keystone character on TV’s “All My Children,” and she learned a lot from older actors on the show, and from Agnes Nixon, the creator of it. She says she still keeps in touch with many of her former costars.
She is thankful for her mother’s caretakers, who stepped in when dementia struck. Grateful for more doctors, who did heart-saving work when Lucci had a clogged artery. Grateful for friends, opportunities, life, grandchildren, and a career that continues.
And she’s grateful for the love she shared with her husband, Helmut Huber, who died nearly four years ago. Grateful for the chance to grieve, to heal, and to continue.
And yet, she says of her husband: “He was never timid, but I know he was afraid at the end, and that kills me down to my soul.”
“It’s been 15 years since Erica Kane and I parted ways,” says author Susan Lucci (with Laura Morton), and she says that people still approach her to confirm or deny rumors of the show’s resurrection. There’s still no answer to that here (sorry, fans), but what you’ll find inside “La Lucci” is still exceptionally generous.
If this book were just filled with stories, you’d like it just fine. If it was only about Lucci’s faith and her gratitude – words that happen to appear very frequently here – you’d still like reading it. But Lucci tells her stories of family, children and “All My Children,” while also offering help to couples who’ve endured miscarriage, women who’ve had heart problems, and widow(ers) who are spinning and need the kindness of someone who’s lived loss, too.
These are the other things you’ll find in “La Lucci,” in a voice you’ll hear in your head, if you spent your lunch hours glued to the TV back in the day. It’s a comfortable, fun read for fans. It’s a story you’ll love.
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