About Robert J Burke

About Robert J Burke

✴️ Hello. I’m Bob.

I’ve lived a few lives. Some were inked on skin, some coded in HTML, and some whispered into the dusty corners of small-town motels with more stories than guests.

I’ve run tattoo shops crowned “Best in the Berkshires” for over a decade. Built websites when the internet was still wild. Branded dreams for high-end auctions. Owned an occult shop. Walked factory floors and backstage halls. Laid cable down the East Coast. Went to Daytona Beach for Bike Week—and stayed for a few years.

These days, I roll with artists, actors, con-goers, and mischief-makers—people who turn imagination into something you can actually touch. I help build things. Share ideas. Spark new fires.

Right now, I’m diving deep into AI—because the future flat-out fascinates me. And believe me, I understand the fear and frustration of artists, writers, and designers. But here’s the truth: AI is a tool, just like every innovation before it. Digital illustration didn’t kill oil painting. Computer-aided drafting didn’t erase hand-drawn blueprints. Photography didn’t end portraiture. Synthesizers didn’t silence acoustic guitars. Word processors didn’t destroy poetry.

Still, change is coming—and it’s coming fast. It will replace repetitive, mechanical work. That’s not a threat. It’s a shift. Farm machinery replaced field hands. ATMs transformed banking. Driverless trucks are already whispering down the highways.

For me, prompting is modern spellwork—I want to know how it ticks, how it speaks, and what it can help us create.

I call the backroads of New York home for now, but my mind roams freely through haunted motels, dusty dive bars, and gothic dreamscapes. Right now, I’m creating Velvet Whiskey—a mythos woven from music, mysticism, and memory. It’s part Southern Gothic, part personal reckoning, and 100% built from the real stuff: joy, pain, humor, and pizza.

I’m not a big fan of small talk. As someone who’s had his heart outside his chest—literally—life’s way too short to chit-chat your way into boredom. I want the truth: what moves you, what’s haunted you, and most importantly, what dream you’ve been quietly carrying, waiting for someone to ask about.

I try to be kind. I try to be honest. I work hard to laugh, even when it’s easier not to. I protect my people. I build with the willing. I’ll be as loyal as I can be—I’m human, not a saint—until you give me a reason not to be.

So yeah—this is me. Let’s skip the elevator pitch and make something weird, wild, or at least worth remembering.