INKED: How Tattoos Tell Stories

Shimalla 1 Abstract Humans communicate through stories. Individuals with tattoos take this form of communication to the next level by permanently altering their body to become a living narrative. This project stemmed from a fascination I have always had for tattoos, a desire to hear the stories behind these elaborate or simple markings on another’s skin. For this project, I used my personal tattoo narrative as a frame. I also gathered a collection of narratives and interviewed a tattoo artist to examine how tattoos communicate stories about the wearer. To solidify my research, and situate it in a larger context, I discussed how tattoos are examples of visual rhetoric. Shimalla 2 INKED: How Tattoos Tell Stories by Alexandra Shimalla A Senior Project Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Major in English and the Bachelor of Arts Degree Stetson University, DeLand, Florida Advisors: Prof. Grady Ballenger and Dr. O’Neill December 6, 2015 Shimalla 3 Table of Contents Introduction………………………………………………………………………………………..4 My Skin Story……………………………………………………………………………………..4 The History of Skin and Ink……………………………………………………………………….8 Space of Agency…………………………………………………………………………………10 Tattoos and Literature……………………………………………………………………………13 Rise of the Image………………………………………………………………………………...14 Conclusion……………………………………………………………………………………….19 Works Cited……………………………………………………………………………………...21 Appendix…………………………………………………………………………………………23 Shimalla 4 Introduction Humans crave stories. Since ancient times, societies have gathered to share oral stories. Each memory was passed on and slightly changed from generation to generation. Tattoos are no different. This dynamic aspect of tattoos drove my project. I gathered tattoo narratives, wrote my own, and researched the topic of visual rhetoric to truly discover what these images mean to the tattooed. Ink creates words on a page, so too does it create images on the skin. These skin illustrations tell the tales of the wearer. They tell the hardships, love, death, childhood, mottos of these permanently inked individuals. Behind each of these intimate designs on the tattoo tapestry of one’s skin lies another story: how those continuous meetings between skin and needle came to be. The collaboration between individual and tattoo artist creates permanent history through blood, ink, and skin. These tattoos become a living narrative, an example of visual rhetoric, a personal essay. My Skin Story I love tattoos. I have always had a fascination with the markings that people get permanently inked into their skin, specifically the stories that these images or words represent. I remember the first time a friend talked about the tattoos that she wanted. I thought it would be “cool” to have some too, but I didn’t know what to get at 15. I also slightly feared broaching the subject to my parents. One morning, I woke up with the pressing desire to get a tattoo. I turned 18 a few days earlier, yet before this moment, I had no thoughts about getting tattooed. But that morning I was blindly determined; I merely lacked an idea of what the drawing should be. To this day, two Shimalla 5 years later, I am still not entirely sure how the design came to be, but it did, and now black lines cover the better part of my inner right forearm. The original design I created wouldn’t work because the artist insisted that the font size I chose for the word would close up in a few years. After he showed me his botched tattoos, I believed him and quickly changed the design to what it currently is. The word “breathe” lies in a casual yet elegant cursive font followed directly after by a simple cross with the infinity symbol stretching underneath both. I have had plenty of illiterate people ask if my tattoo says “breath” or “breathnet;” I will admit that, at first glance, the cross looks really close to the word. If I could do it over, I would space the word and the cross a little more, but since I know what it means, I don’t care too much about what other people think it says. The overall experience was uneventful. I scoured Google and various review sites in an effort to find the best tattoo shop in Savannah, which lead me to the California Tattoo Company, apparently the oldest shop in the Southeast (or so my artist claimed). The morning I had my epiphany, I sketched out an idea and made the trek into Savannah to work out the kinks in the design. When my dad brought me back to actually get the tattoo a few days later (I needed the moral support and hand to squeeze through the pain), it was all paperwork (consisting of me paying far more than what the tattoo and experience were actually worth) and then a 20 minute affair of a needle filled with jet black ink repeatedly entering the first layer of my flesh. But I didn’t cry. The ‘word’ tattoos that I have now are subtle reminders, and that is exactly the brief explanation I give passersby who question what they mean. If someone is truly interested, I hesitate slightly because my ink goes a little deeper than the first layer of skin. Writing about the meaning and story behind my tattoos is an easier task than telling someone. I am always a little Shimalla 6 stressed about everything, so the word “breathe” reminds me to do just that: breathe. The cross symbolized my faith; I was raised Catholic and still believe that I have a relationship with the Holy Trinity, although I don’t completely agree with all aspects of Roman Catholicism. The infinity symbol means a few different things to me. Originally, I included it in the design to remind me of the old saying “What goes around comes back around,” but now I realize that it depicts the ebb and flow of life, the uncontrollable and inevitable ups and downs. I think it can also be interpreted to show that life goes on and on. A beautiful characteristic of tattoos lies in their ambiguous nature. The meaning(s) can be permanent or ever-changing. This past summer, just after my 20th birthday, I got two more tattoos from the same parlor albeit a different artist. I will admit something that I am sure anyone who went to school with me would never believe and something I am sure my parents won’t be too fond of: I became addicted to tattoos after my first one. By the time I finally gained the courage to divulge my plans for future ink, two years had passed and my inspirations for future designs had become a small notebook. The genuine friendliness of the artist I worked with for this session helped ease the nervousness I was feeling. (Anything as permanent as tattoos should bring at least a minute dose of extreme anxiety.) He talked to me throughout the 90 minute process of both tattoos I got that day. The first tattoo was a black and white sunflower on the back of my neck at the base of my skull, dead-center on a bone. I have always had an affinity with black and white tattoos; I believe that the art stands out more without color, so this palate choice has become my theme. Sunflowers are my favorite flowers, perhaps because of the way they stand tall in a field—a permanent reminder of positivity. They also represent God’s love as they point towards Heaven. Shimalla 7 This tattoo was my first that had more aesthetic appeal, although it still holds a gentle reminder of a deeper message. The sunflower tattoo took about an hour from detailing the design to finishing. I came in with a few images and an idea, but the artist did the real work. My biggest specification was that I didn’t want a tattoo that looked “cartoony;” I wanted it as close to reality as possible, minus color. The nervousness I felt increased slightly when the artist said that the majority of the design would take place once he had already started, meaning that I could only get a glimpse of what it would really look like before he began. I had to place an ungodly amount of trust in a stranger with a ponytail, chest-length beard, and minimal clear skin showing. In the end, the tattoo came out far more beautiful than I imagined. To be completely honest, I frequently forget I have the tattoo until I glance at myself at the mirror in an awkward angle, but then I fall in love with the design and outcome all over again. I have had more than one person ask if my tattoos hurt, and of course they certainly did. However, the outlining process hurts the most; eventually the area goes numb and it becomes almost (almost) soothing. Once the needle is done and the tattoo finished, the pain ceases to exist—automatically. Only the sweat outline of my body on the artist’s chair as well as a permanent mark on my skin linger. Surprisingly, the most painful tattoo I’ve gotten was the second one I got that day: the words “I am” in black newspaper typography printed onto my left wrist, just below where some people wear a watch. God calls himself simply “I am,” and this tattoos reminds me that I am what I am—nothing more and certainly nothing less. Be confident in that person. What I love about this tattoo is the ability for me to constantly change the second layer meaning. Although Shimalla 8 the phrase primarily means I am who I am, I can adjust the other meaning depending on my day or mental state. Despite my original plan to have easily coverable tattoos, the placement of my first one seems to have completely ruined that goal. My tattoos are bits of my life that have been beautifully carved into my skin. I am proud to be inked. These images and words illustrate my personal narrative. I want to see the reminders and designs always. Naturally, more tattoos are inevitable. In fact, I want a black and white half sleeve on my right arm (stopping an inch or two above my elbow) made out of numerous images from my life—a weeping willow, a live oak tree, a palm tree, and the outline of New York City—so I can carry those memories with me wherever I go. I would like to believe that we live in an age where people are accepting of tattooed individuals. I would like to think that my tattoos are a little more tasteful. I would like to think that they do not affect the way people view who I am as a person. I would also like to think that the field I am heading in after graduation has open-minded people, who will judge the work I have done and not the ink on my body. However, I am not too sure about any one of these things, but as I glance at my left wrist, I am reminded that I am who I am. The History of Skin and Ink Tattoos have had a significant place in human history for quite some time. The ancient Greeks watched the Thracians use tattoos as “markers of status” before adopting the practice themselves to denote “Otherness” (Larsen, Patterson, and Markham 671). However, perhaps the discovery of Iceman remains the earliest indication of the existence of tattoos, dating back to 3300BCE (“Iceman”). According to Karin Beeler, associate professor of the English department Shimalla 9 at the University of Northern British Columbia and author of Tattoos, Desire, and Violence, the word “tattoo” actually stems from the Japanese word tatau, “which means ‘knocking’ or ‘striking’” and ‘imitate[s] the sound of the tapping that was used to generate tattoos in Polynesian cultures (1). Beeler also notes that the Japanese term irezumi describes “the process of inserting ink into the skin, a concept often linked to the notion of punishment (1). Native Americans commonly used tattoos to decorate their body and/or face; this culture’s process reignited the idea of tattooing within European minds when exploration brought them to present day North America (“Tattoo”). Slave owners frequently tattooed or marked their slaves. Tattoos were also infamously associated with the Holocaust; a line of tattooed digits on their arm because their identity while they fought to survive in concentration camps (Beeler 130). In literary history, Herman Melville’s Moby Dick, originally published in 1851, contained one of the first, and most well-known, citations of a novelistic character having tattoos. When the main character meets his bunkmate for the first time, he comments, “As I live, these covered parts of him were checkered with the same squares as his face…It was now quite plain that he must be some abominable savage…” (Melville 29). More recently, people tattoos to mark themselves as “Others” and join a counter-culture with the desire of standing apart from the crowd: criminals, prisoners, gangsters, bikers. Since then, America has witnessed a culture shift, a tattoo renaissance. This societal movement took place largely during the 1980s but has continued to expand for the better part of the last three decades (Larson, Patterson, and Markham 670). Consequently, “tattoo art has infiltrated the mainstream, and the identity of tattooees now transcends age, class, and ethnic boundaries” (Larson, Patterson, and Markham 670). As we currently live in the by-product of this accepted tattoo renaissance, finding a person with a tattoo is a relatively simple task. According to an Shimalla 10 article written in 2008, “a third of people ages 25-29 have tattoos” (Rafferty). Another study, conducted in 2012, found that 20% of Americans have tattoos (Leonard). However, since the completion of this research, the average age of people with tattoos decreased. It is not uncommon to see college students sporting ink; in fact, tattooing is quite common in this age group (Kang and Jones 42). Depending on the environment, high schoolers may have a tattoo as well. Cultural sociologist Mary Kosut points out that children in America are growing up in a “tattoo-friendly and tattoo-flooded” environment, compared to past decades (1036). Not only are tattoos generally more visible amongst every-day Americans, but actresses, musicians, and other celebrities also sport ink. Children who look up to these individuals as role models may be influenced to perceive tattoos as socially acceptable. These children contribute to the present tattoo renaissance. Space of Agency This tattoo renaissance in America spans age, gender, race, and socio-economic backgrounds. The entirety of American culture has undergone a change: “cultural shifts are taking place that allow tattooing to be recognized as a meaningful and consequential presentation of self” (Modesti 210). According to sociologists Miliann Kang and Katherine Jones, people use tattoos to “express who they are, what they have lived through, and how they see themselves in relation to others and to their social worlds” (42). Yet, despite one’s best efforts to demand that his/her tattoo be viewed in a certain light, ultimately, factors beyond one’s control goes into another’s interpretation: “The complex motivations of people who get tattoos are filtered through historical and cultural lenses that often impose unintended and unwanted meanings on their Shimalla 11 tattooed bodies” (46). One’s social context strongly influences how others respond to and interpret a tattoo; these factors include one’s work environment, social atmosphere, socio-economic status, gender, age, race, ethnicity—a myriad of elements interwoven to create a stranger’s judgement. However, regardless of what friends, family, or even society think about tattoos, the desire to tell one’s story through skin is stronger than potential judgement. This quotation from Dr. Sonja Modesti from Minnesota State University illustrates this idea: “Every time I open the doors to another tattoo parlor, I literally open the doors to understanding another facet of who I am” (198). These skin illustrations act as permanent reminders, permanent inscriptions into one’s skin. Tattooing is not merely a fad that will swiftly evaporate from society as quickly as it came. In an article for The Chronicle for Higher Education, David Leonard points out that although “tattoos operate as ritual, as a method of memorializing significant life moments or articulating group membership, they are at their core about reasserting control over one’s body….” Savannah, Georgia tattoo artist David Camp confesses that many people use his chair as more of a therapy session than as a place to sit while a needle repeatedly injects ink into their skin: “For a lot of people, getting tattooed is like a release or therapy” (Appendix: David). This interaction allows one human to help another through the grieving process, to gain agency over one’s life, or to remember a special moment. Tattoos are not merely drawings etched into skin. They are the stories, memories, moments, and reminders of the individual who paid to have these illustrations forever. Despite the inherent stereotypes that accompany the tattooed, especially woman, tattooing can be a deeply cathartic experience. Flavia Carvalho, a tattoo artist in Brazil, started “A Pele da Flor” (The Skin of the Flower) roughly two years ago. With this project, Carvalho Shimalla 12 “seeks to transform scars on women’s bodies into…empowering, and transformative tattoos” (Experimental Journalism Project).Women who have been victims of domestic violence or who have survived cancer and have scars due to their battle can come to Carvalho’s parlor, and she will design and ink a tattoo for free, redefining these women’s wounds and giving them control over their bodies once again. Ultimately, the life-changing meaning behind a tattoo greatly influences one’s decision to get inked. A study conducted by Eric Madfis and Tammi Arford for The Social Science Journal found that if the tattooing process lacks a narrative, individuals are more prone to experience feelings of regret. Madfis and Arford argue that these narratives legitimize one’s tattoos (547); these stories “neutralize the stigma that remains from previous notions that tattooing was exclusively a lower class and/or deviant phenomenon” (548). Anyone with a tattoo has been asked questions as part of a routine bombardment from strangers wanting to know more. Beyond what the tattooed has rehearsed to say to these inquiries, there lies a far deeper meaning behind one’s ink than the average person may be willing to divulge with a stranger. As well-renowned tattoo artist Scott Campbell argues, “A tattoo is a residue of an experience, and I think the experience itself is more important than the aesthetic of the tattoo. The great tattoos are always the ones that have great stories behind them” (qtd. in Williams). The pressure to create an elaborate and deeply meaningful narrative to share with people may stem from a desire to legitimize one’s decision (Madfis and Artford 551). If this deeper meaning is non-existent, tattoo regret may be present, solidifying the intimate connection between tattoos and stories. Shimalla 13 Tattoos and Literature However, the relationship between stories and tattoos is deeper than the potential for regret. The writing process and the experience of getting a tattoo are uniquely similar. Tattoos are a variation of the personal essay. An author comes up with an ingenious idea for a novel, pure brilliance. A person makes the life-changing decision to get a tattoo. An author researches her idea, follows all the leads, reads all the articles and books, thereby becoming an expert in her field until the novel has a coherent outline from which to begin. A person researches the best tattoo shop in the area: artist specializations, comfortable atmosphere, and perhaps cleanliness. An author creates an eloquently written novel. A person creates a beautiful tattoo design. An author goes to an editor for help in the final stages of perfecting. A person goes to a tattoo artist to turn the sketches into skin illustrations. An author takes the edited novel to a publisher for printing and distribution. A person undergoes the final act of getting inked. An author watches like a proud parent as her work gets placed on shelves at Barnes & Noble as well as the Internet shelves of Amazon. A person watches her skin come alive with vibrant colors or striking black and gray shading. If the tattoo shop can be thought of as a publishing company, one that rivals the literary, albeit in a different fashion, then the tattoo shop and artist print stories of remembrance, freedom, and agency. In 2004, USA Today published an article about a short story by author Shelley Jackson, a piece that would defy the boundaries of what a conventional text looked like. Jackson was writing a 2,095-word piece of fiction entirely through tattoos. Volunteers signed up through her website and were mailed a word that they would then get tattooed (“A Story Told in Tattoos”). One of the volunteers, Rob Poulos, said, “I always told myself [that] if I get a tattoo, it better be something of importance” (qtd. in “A Story Told in Tattoos”). So located on Poulos’ left wrist is Shimalla 14 a single word followed by a comma and a set of quotation marks: back,”. Not only does Poulos’ tattoo stem from a story, but it is part of a story. Rise of the Image Traditionally, the term ‘rhetoric’ has been strictly applied to words, specifically the way in which writers and speakers communicate. Although the addition of images into the study only recently occurred, it was destined to happen nonetheless. Sonja Foss, a communications professor at the University of Colorado-Denver, defines the term “visual rhetoric” as applying to the study of images within the larger discipline of rhetoric (141). Rhetorical scholar Douglas Ehniger perfectly stated this inclusion of images in the field: rhetoric is the “way in which humans ‘may influence each other’s thinking and behavior through the strategic use of symbols’” (qtd. in Foss 141). Countless images and pictures bombard us daily through advertisements, film, television, and even clothing. Foss states that “visual images provide access to a range of human experiences, not always available through the study of discourse” (143); images constitute the next level of communication. As the old saying goes, “A picture is worth a thousand words.” This quote also extends to tattoos. In fact, it is the multiplicity of tattoos that intrigues so many. Tattoo artist David Camp explains this fascination: “I like the ambiguous nature of a well thought out tattoo. They can be interpreted differently by people and have multiple meanings. A picture is worth a thousand words: very true when it comes to tattoos” (Appendix: David). Some scholars argue that “language is general and abstract, while images are concrete and specific” (Foss 149). However, this statement couldn’t be farther from the truth. Although words have the ability to be concise and deliberate, they also carry the weight of numerous Shimalla 15 competing meanings given the context of the conversation, the speaker’s background, the listener’s experience, or the speaker’s intention. The possibility for miscommunication is abundant. On the other hand, images are only concrete because they capture a moment and hold it hostage for eternity. In terms of interpretation and judgement, images are abstract at best. As one of my narrative participants stated when referring to his tattoo, which displays a motto he tries to live by: “You could decipher it different ways, so it means whatever you think it means to you” (Appendix: Henry). Another participant chose the words “to me” to describe what a particular tattoo meant; this phrasing implies that other people have interpreted the image differently than either he intended or desired (Appendix: Connor). When images are created specifically for the purpose of communicating a message or, in the case of a tattoo, capturing a memory, they become, what Foss refers to as “communicative artifacts” (143). In order for an image to officially become a communicative artifact, three markers must be met: “the image must be symbolic, involve human intervention, and be presented to an audience for the purpose of communicating with that audience” (144). The majority of tattoos inherently symbolize something deeper than the layer of skin that has been inked. When examining the tattoo stories I collected, it became clear just how meaningful these images were to the wearers, extending far deeper than the lines of ink drawn into the individuals’ skin. As Charles Hill and Marguerite Helmers point out in the introduction to their anthology Defining Visual Rhetoric: “We learn who we are as private individuals and public citizens by seeing ourselves reflected in images, and we learn who we can become by transporting ourselves into images” (1). For example, the images that contribute to Trevor’s (a participant) half sleeve are separate yet related: they represent either moments in his life or Shimalla 16 things he holds dear. When explaining the meaning behind his rose tattoo, he said, “My rose…means family, and the red is for the blood of family” (Appendix: Trevor). Yet these symbolic images need not be strictly pictures. Words can be just as duplicitous and dynamic as an image. Another tattoo that Trevor has is an image of a diamond and coal with the phrase “apply pressure;” he describes the tattoo as standing for those moments in life when “things can seem bad on the outside, [but] through pressure and trials, things can turn out to be just what is desired” (Appendix: Trevor). Just as humans are involved in the interpretation, creation, and deciphering of words, so too with images: “Humans are involved in the generation of visual rhetoric when they engage in the process of image creation…the process involves the conscious decision to communicate as well as conscious choices about the strategies to employ” (Foss 144). When someone makes the decision to enter a tattoo parlor, they willfully engage in the creation of visual rhetoric. Furthermore, Foss argues that visual rhetoric “requires human action either in the process of creation or in the process of interpretation” (144). The collaboration between individual and artist makes the tattoo a piece of visual rhetoric. Artist Scott Campbell states, “Tattooing on a regular basis is a way for me to still meet people and hear their stories and be a part of all these biographies….It’s just how they communicate that changes” (qtd. in Choi). The human intervention may also be in the form of “transforming nonrhetorical visual images into visual rhetoric” (Foss 144). For example, Kate’s tattoo of an outline of a horse did not illustrate visual rhetoric until she described the meaning behind it: “I knew I wanted something horse-related because I know that horses will always be a part of my life, just like this tattoo will always be a part of my life….I feel like my tattoo accurately portrays my passion for horses, and I love it for that reason” (Appendix: Kate). Simply put: images tell a unique, detailed Shimalla 17 narrative in a short time. As Charles Hill argues in his article “The Psychology of Rhetorical Images,” “Once the association between a particular image and a value is created and internalized, the image becomes a symbol for the abstract value and can be used to trigger its associated emotions” (35). The final element of a communicative artifact is the presence of an audience: “visual rhetoric implies an audience and is concerned with an appeal either to a real or an ideal audience” (Foss 144). Drew, another participant, described both of his tattoos as “epitaph[s]” to his loved ones who have passed: “They just represent the people that were left behind, and even though I would never forget them, it’s more like an expression of love in a different way.” (Appendix: Drew). In this case, the imagined audience of Drew’s tattoos could potentially be his family members who loved those who have passed as much as he does. As Jennifer Jackson, a tattoo artist, says: “I believe the reasoning behind tattoos is as individual as the person getting them. Tattoos have a great healing power…Their permanence allows the wearer to keep a part of that person with them always” (qtd. in Chun). However, the audience need not be a group of individuals or external to the creator. The audience could simply be the tattooed. Kenneth Burke, a rhetorical theorist, claims, “A man can be his own audience, insofar as he, even in his secret thoughts, cultivates certain ideas or images for the effect he hopes they may have upon him” (qtd. in Foss 144-5). Individuals who get tattoos to illustrate a motto or capture a moment in time best exemplify the personal audience. These tattoos’ sole purpose is to remind the wearer to live a certain way or never forget “that moment when.” These images are meant for the consumption, interpretation, and enjoyment of the inked. As tattoo artist Graydon Payne states: “Tattoos do tell a story or bring you back. It’s a map of your past” (qtd. in Isolde). Shimalla 18 Beyond being a communicative device, visual rhetoric is also a perspective—a tool to analyze images or the communicative, storytelling nature of tattoos. Visual rhetoric becomes a lens through which individuals and society at large understand and interpret images, intentionally or subconsciously. The interpreter goes deeper than the aesthetic value: “meaning is attributed to the image” (Foss 145). In order to develop a complete understanding of the image, the viewer must evaluate the existence of emotion and ideas (Foss 145). The presence of a single emotion, a driving desire to remember through stories on the skin, forms the foundation for most tattoos. According to Foss, a visual rhetorical perspective is concerned with three aspects of an image: nature, function, and evaluation (146). To describe the nature of an image, one must evaluate both the presented and suggested elements. Identifying the presented elements involves “naming the major physical features of the image,” such as the size, materials used, and shapes included (Foss 146). Conversely, the suggested elements are more subtle; these involve the “concepts, ideas, themes, and allusions that a viewer is likely to infer from the presented elements” (Foss 146). Ivan, a participant, has a tattoo of 13 in Roman numerals, and he describes the meaning behind this ink as such: “I have always had misfortune in my life, [and] ‘13’ is known as an unlucky number. I decided to change the connotation it has. For me, life is not about always having the best fortune; it’s about how you overcome adversity and continue living. ‘13’ means life, not death” (Appendix: Ivan). Although Ivan’s tattoo may simply be the number 13, the meaning is far more intricate than what is initially assumed. Examining the function of the image depends on the intended audience, specifically what the image communicates to viewers (Foss 146). As aforementioned, this audience need not be external from the creator or tattooed. When the image is viewed independent from the creator, what does it say to the intended audience? Shimalla 19 The final stage, evaluating the image, can be completed in a multitude of ways. Foss gives the example of a creator wishing to memorialize someone; in this evaluation, one would “[discover] whether its media, colors, forms, and content actually accomplish that function” (147). Referring back to Drew’s tattoos of his deceased loved ones: only Drew and other close family members would be able to truly discern whether or not the image fulfilled its purpose. However, Drew was not the only participant who had memorial tattoos. Henry has tattoos to remember his grandfather; in fact, two of his three tattoos are memorials. A female participant, Jordan—who loved the idea of “making art on [her] body”—explains that usually her tattoos fall into themes, but her most recent addition to her art collection was the word “four” on her knuckles: “[It] is very, very dear to me. It’s a tattoo in remembrance of my best friend passing away last year; he was number four in all his team sports” (Appendix: Jordan). These images fulfilled their purpose once the tattooed had collaborated with the artist and the first needle completed its task. Conclusion Although I have been fascinated by what motivates an individual to muster up the courage to sit still in an artist’s chair for hours on end, enduring a repeated meeting between skin and needle, I found the stories behind the images themselves to be far more intriguing. From my personal experience, tattoos reflect mottos, but as the narratives and sources show, tattoos can also be memorials or reminders of past moments. At the beginning of this project, I purchased Pen & Ink: Tattoos and the Stories behind Them by Isaac Fitzgerald and Wendy MacNaughton. As I thumbed through the colorful images and summaries the contributors gave for their tattoos, I realized that I had a chance to satisfy my curiosity by creating this project. As Fitzgerald says in Shimalla 20 his preface to the collection, “I learned that people define you by your stories…We are our stories. And tattoos are how we remember never to forget…Because everyone, tattoos or no, has a story.” Shimalla 21 Works Cited “A Collection of Tattoo Narratives.” Personal Interview. Sept, 2015. To read these narratives, refer to Appendix. Beeler, Karin. Tattoos, Desire, and Violence: Marks of Resistance in Literature, Film, and Television. Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland, 2006. Print. Choi, Jen. “Storytelling in the Flesh.” Soma Magazine. Web. 19 Sept. 2015. Chun, Sonya. “The Stories Tattoos Tell for Many of the 45 Million Americans Sporting Them. The Body Art Conveys a Personal Message.” Pittsburgh Post–Gazette. 18 Jul. 2010. ProQuest. Web. 19 Sept. 2015. Experimental Journalism Project. “This Artist Is Changing the Lives of Domestic Violence Survivors, One Tattoo at a Time.” Huffington Post. The Huffington Post, 31 Aug. 2015. Web. 7 Sept. 2015. Fitzgerald, Isaac and Wendy MacNaughton. Pen & Ink: Tattoos & The Stories behind Them. New York: Bloomsbury, 2014. Print. Foss, Sonja K. “Theory of Visual Rhetoric.” Handbook of Visual Communication: Theory, Methods, and Media. Ed. Ken Smith, Sandra Moriarty, Gretchen Barbatsis, and Keith Kenney. Mahwah, New Jersey: Lawrence Erlbaum, 2005. 141-52. Print. Hill, Charles and Marguerite Helmers. “Introduction.” Defining Visual Rhetoric. Ed. Charles Hill and Marguerite Helmers. London: Lawrence Erlbaum, 2004. 1-23. Print. Hill, Charles. “The Psychology of Rhetorical Images.” Hill and Helmer 25-40. “Iceman.” Britannica Online Encyclopedia. Britannica. Web. 19 Sept. 2015. Kang, Miliann and Katherine Jones. “Why Do People Get Tattoos?” Contexts 6.1 (2007): 42-47. Web. 19 Sept. 2015. Shimalla 22 Kosut, Mary. “An Ironic Fad: The Commodification and Consumption of Tattoos.” The Journal of Popular Culture 39.6 (2006): 1035-1046. Web. 18 Sept. 2015. Larson, Gretchen, Maurice Patterson, and Lucy Markham. “A Deviant Art: Tattoo-Related Stigma in an Era of Commodification.” Psychology and Marketing 31.8 (2014): 670-80. Web. 15 Sept. 2015. Leonard, David. “The Inked Academic Body.” The Chronicle of Higher Education (2012). Web. 17 Sept. 2015. Madfis, Eric and Tammi Arford. “The dilemmas of embodied symbolic representation: Regret in contemporary American tattoo narratives.” The Social Science Journal 50 (2013): 547-556. Web. 16 Sept. 2015. Melville, Herman. Moby-Dick. Ed. Harrison Hayford and Hershel Parker. New York: W.W. Norton, 1967. Print. Modesti, Sonja. “Home Sweet Home: Tattoo Parlors as Postmodern Spaces of Agency.” Western Journal of Communication (2008): 197-212. Web. 15 Sept. 2015. Raftery, Isolde. “Tattoos No Longer Taboo.” Columbian. 13 Jul. 2008. ProQuest. Web. 19 Sept. 2015. “A Story Told in Tattoos.” USA Today 30. USA Today (2004). Web. 19 Sept. 2015. “Tattoo.” Britannica Online Encyclopedia. Britannica. 15 May 2014. Web. 19 Sept. 2015. Williams, Alex. “Scott Campbell Wants to Tattoo You.” New York Times. The New York Times, 10 Nov. 2015. Web. 2 Dec. 2015. Shimalla 23 Appendix: A Collection of Tattoo Narratives To further my project, I gathered a collection of tattoo stories from individuals like myself: the tattooed. I reached out to friends who had tattoos first, then friends of friends, until I posted a small sign in my dorm’s hallway. I asked each writer to list their preferred first name (while also giving the option to remain anonymous), age, and gender. I then provided them with a series of “prompts” to help guide their written responses of at least a paragraph, although I encouraged more. A few participants answered the questions instead of creating a paragraph, but their word choice and narrative within their answers were sufficient for the project. One individual requested to be interviewed, so I transcribed that interview from a recording. I was also fortunate enough to interview my tattoo artist from Savannah, Georgia, via email; I asked him the same basic set of questions and added a few specific to his career as a maker of permanent skin stories. In total (without the inclusion of the artist, who falls outside of the age range I targeted), I was able to get 16 stories consisting of eight females and eight males, ages 18-22. Two of the individuals are currently in the Marines; the oldest woman is a model who resides in Sydney, Australia, after moving from Georgia; the rest of the participants are attending a small, private university in central Florida. Although I am a sociology minor, and this area of study certainly influenced my project, I collected these stories to explore how people talked about their tattoos, to examine their tattoo narratives, and to illustrate that this injection of ink becomes a living text, a personal essay. Some individuals hesitated writing because they were self-conscious of their grammar or felt that their tattoos did not have the meaning I was looking for. However, the mere act of getting tattooed was part of their story. I encouraged them to write whatever they felt comfortable with, Shimalla 24 given the prompts. Writing a tattoo story is impossible to do incorrectly because it is a part of your history, of which no one else knows the absolute truth. Shimalla 25 Story 1: Abby, 20, Female I was 18 when I got my first tattoo. I’d always loved tattoos and viewed them each as a unique piece of art. My father was an art teacher, so creativity was always encouraged, and my siblings and I never got yelled at for drawing on ourselves or our clothes like other kids. Before I ever got “inked,” I’d been with my father, friends, and ex-boyfriend to get tattoos, along with getting piercings myself, so I was already familiar with tattoo parlors and tattoo culture. I’d also had plans and designs to get a back/side piece since I was fifteen. When I got my first tattoo though, it was actually completely spontaneous. I guess I just got tired of waiting and decided to start with something smaller. It was July 3rd, my then-boyfriend was in town for the weekend, and I was lying around with him and my heavily tatted best friend, trying to think of something to do. It just came to me. I had some summer savings money just laying around…why the hell not? I knew I wanted an animal themed piece with sketchy lines that I could later add watercolor to, but I had no distinct ideas. I juggled with the idea of a mouse, a panda, and a fox, but in the end, the fox called to me. Something about the personality of the fox is just relatable to me. I’m not going to be cheesy enough as to call it my spirit animal, but there’s something particularly awesome about that animal to me. Anyways, we decided to go to the tattoo parlor that my best friend, Taylor, normally went to because it was “cheap and everyone went there.” When we got there, though, something about the artwork was just completely unappealing to me. We had to excuse ourselves after having already talked to the artists, which was incredibly awkward. After that, we called every single reputable tattoo parlor in the Uptown Charlotte area, but everyone was closed, what with the holiday weekend. But I was too excited to turn back. We finally found this sort of dingy tattoo shop, and somehow Taylor and my boyfriend convinced me to at least let them draw my design Shimalla 26 out. They did, and I absolutely loved it. It was a two-tailed fox with abstract sketch lines and detailed fur-like shading. I got it on my right calf and ankle, spanning about six or seven inches long. Honestly, the pain wasn’t that bad; everyone who’s ever had a tattoo understands what I mean when I say the feeling was euphoric and addictive. The funniest part of the experience was my artist coming out of the back room reeking of pot; it dawned on me that I was entrusting my skin to a sky-high stranger. You could definitely say I was nervous. Astonishingly though, the art came out beautifully. Everyone, for the most part, loves my tattoo. The only time I get criticism is when people ask me what it means and I say nothing. Then, suddenly, everyone becomes high and mighty and looks down on my piece. I like to explain that I have always viewed tattoos as art; I found an artistic concept that appealed to me, and I wanted to turn into that piece of walking art. That’s my symbolism, I guess. I still plan on getting my tattoo finished with abstract watercolor splatters. I want to find an artist that specializes in watercolor though, so I don’t have the money to invest in a really reputable artist right now. I am also still planning on getting my side/back piece; hopefully I’ll have it finished by the time I’m thirty, but that’s questionable because I see myself investing several thousand dollars into it over time. It’s going to be a pack of animals flowing together from my left hip, up to my shoulder. I like to describe it like the artwork filling the Tree of Life from Disney World, but take away the tree format. I honestly can’t wait to feed my addiction and dream when the time comes. Shimalla 27 Story 2: Allison, 18, Female I, like many others, got my first tattoo almost immediately after I turned 18. I had wanted to get a tattoo ever since middle school but was greatly discouraged to get one from my very religious mom. I went to a local tattoo parlor that I heard great reviews from and where mostly everyone I know gets their work done too. I do, however, have some extremely amateur “stick n poke” tattoos on my ankles that I plan to eventually get covered. They are small and simple ones: an equal sign for equality, a sun and moon to represent my friendship with the girl who did the stick n pokes, and lastly an arrow with the roman numerals of the day my father passed. The numerals and the arrow will be the first of the stick n pokes that I plan to get redone. My professionally done tattoo is of a mandala on my upper left back. The design is a very simple and traditional mandala with added shading that I requested. The mandala is very significant in many cultures and religions. Personally, my tattoo is meaningful to me because tribal and mandala tattoos are important in the Filipino culture (my mom is from the Philippines). I made sure that my tattoo would not be considered cultural appropriation because mandalas are mostly known and used particularly in Buddhism and Hinduism. However, the actual act of getting tribal and mandala-type tattoos is honored in Filipino culture, specifically Babaylan. Everyone that has seen my tattoo has given me nothing but compliments on it, except for my mom who still wishes I didn’t get it but has admitted that it looks good. In the near future, by the end of this year, I hope to get another tattoo on my side of the Venus symbol with olive branches on either side of it to represent feminism along with the words “And though she be but little, she is fierce” from A Midsummer Night’s Dream by Shakespeare around it. I know I will get more, but for now, I do not have any more specific ideas. Shimalla 28 Story 3: Connor, 21, Male I got my tattoos when I was 19, during my sophomore year of college. I decided to go in with an all-or-nothing mentality, so I got two at the same time despite it being my first time getting tattoos. I searched around for a while online, comparing different artists and parlors as I was very nervous about having someone who was new or unskilled work on my body. Eventually, I went with a parlor called Hurt-So-Good tattoo in Apopka because many of my friends had recommended it and it was near to home. As for what tattoos I actually received, I have: an ankh on my left pectoral and a bow and arrow on my left bicep. The ankh is an Egyptian hieroglyphic, which is used to symbolize health among many other things in the Egyptian script. To me, it’s a reminder to strive towards healthy habits and a healthy lifestyle in both body and mind. The bow and arrow was a tattoo of my own design that I thought up in response to not quite finding a tattoo that encapsulated what I was trying to portray about myself. I wanted a tattoo that paid homage to my years of shooting recurve bow in the Boy Scouts and to the love I have for nature. After some searching, I read that Artemis, the Greek Goddess of Nature and the hunt, is typically depicted with a bow and arrow. I had decided almost instantly after that to get a bow and arrow, and a few months later when I came up with the design I wanted, I got it. Generally speaking, I get a pretty positive reaction to my tattoos. People have told me they especially like the design of my bow and arrow and consider its minimalism tasteful. I do plan to get many more tattoos, though I’m only certain of one at this point. I want to get a quote from my favorite novel ever, The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. The quote goes: “All wise men fear three things: A sea at storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man.” I love to read, and Rothfuss is the author I admire the most, plus that quote really strikes home with me. Shimalla 29 Story 4: Devonte, 21, Male Alright, since I was young, I never really wanted a tattoo. I always believed they were unnecessary and too permanent for me. I did finally get one as I turned 21 because my brother wanted to become a tattoo artist, and I thought it would be nice of me to let him use me as his first subject. The overall experience was not too bad; it was slightly painful at first, but I got over it pretty quickly. I only have one, and it is located on my chest since I had no desire to get it placed anywhere any employers could see. My tattoo is completely original, and it is a buster sword, refer to Final Fantasy VII if necessary, and it has a wing coming off it. Right next to it are the words “what is life without passion;” since gaming was a part of my early life growing up and helped me get through grade school, I thought that would be a fitting phrase. People generally like it. I believe it is an average drawing, but hey I’ll accept compliments. I do plan on potentially getting more, and I have no idea what or where. Shimalla 30 Story 5: Drew, 18, Male (Interviewed then written 9/7/15) Drew: “I was actually 16 when I got my first tattoo, and I got it for my mom who passed when I was young. I told myself since I was little that I wanted to get a tattoo—I just knew. And then I went to this place in Fort Lauderdale that a lot of people recommended me to; it’s been there forever. I actually saved up and spent on the shop owner to get like literally the best tattoo I could. Just cause I figured like, it’s for life. I have two: one on my upper left shoulder and then one my ribcage. The one on my upper left shoulder is a cross because that was for my mom, that was her religion, and I choose it for her. Then I got a Greek flag because she was Greek. And then I got a vine around it for design and then I got two purple gems because that ended up being our favorite color. I actually made it myself and then I also made that one [my ribcage tattoo] myself. It’s an anchor with a rose around it and a vine around the same anchor. I got that one because of my grandparents, who helped raise me; I got it for them. My grandpa was a World War II vet in the Navy; he always had the best stories. Then I got the rose to make it more feminine for my grandma. On the tattoo for the cross for my mom, it says her name, which is Sia. What do my tattoos mean to me? They just represent the people that were left behind and like even though I would never forget them, it’s more like an expression of love, in a different way. And I got them in places that I could hid for business, so it’s more like for myself. What do your tattoos say about you and your life experience? I don’t know. A lot of people are like “Oh, you got a tattoo at like 16, and I was like “Yeah, I did, so you can go fuck yourself.” Because if you like actually took the time to understand me, you’d realize I’m not like some hoodlum. So, that was one of the responses. Usually I get like good compliments on them because I really put forth a lot of money to get the best work done. Shimalla 31 Do I plan on getting any more in the future? After my wedding, I want a full sleeve down to like business wear. [He showed me where this would be, and it would come down to just a few inches above his right wrist.] Just so I could always cover it up for my business. I want to be a professor, so like could you imagine coming in the class, rollin’ up your sleeve… But, it’d be like my whole right arm. I have a lot of stuff that I put on my left side [gestures to earring and back tattoo]. So I just wanna be like…proportional. Really, I just got two tattoos for like the people who really mean something to me, so I wanna make it [his future sleeve] all about myself. I want it to be about me. Anything and everything that I wanna put into my own body for like my tattoo. Alex: So, you consider those other ones not “your” tattoo? Drew: They mean something for someone else. They’re mine. I made them. I designed them. I had them drawn out, and I brought it to a tattoo artist, and I said ‘make this.’” I’d say they’re my own; they’re like my epitaph to those people. But in this way [talking about his future sleeve], it’s more about expressing yourself—like it’s not remembering someone else. It’s more like expressing who you are on your own skin. Shimalla 32 Story 6: Henry, 20, Male I got a tattoo when I turned 18 as a tribute to my grandpa who passed away. My sister was good friends with the artist and had gotten tattoos from him before. I liked his work and felt comfortable about it. My grandpa received a commemorative metal and ribbon from the Air Force, and he gave it to me a few years before he passed away. So I got the ribbon going around my left upper arm, and his signature on the inside of my arm. A year later I got my second tattoo from a different place because I had moved states. I didn't know the artist; I just looked at his work he did on other people and compared it to other shops around the area. He won, so I showed him a drawing I made of a herein. It had a lot of designs in it. He took it and made his own professional drawing that looked much cooler and had everything I wanted in it. I put it right above my first tattoo close to my shoulder. It has my grandpa's birth and death dates in it, "Geobaka" in the middle of it, which was what he would put on his paintings (his name is George Baka), and in a small spot, it has "hanks" on it, which is the restaurant I went to with him and the last place I saw him. Hank is also my nickname, so I thought that was cool. That same day, I got a quote on my chest, mostly just because I wanted something on my chest. It says, "To Strive, To Seek, To Find and Not To Yield." You could decipher it different ways, so it means whatever you think it means to you. I plan on finishing up my chest and getting a rib tattoo in the near future. The only thing holding me back is I don't know what I want. They're very addicting, and they're awesome when you can figure out something meaningful that you want. Shimalla 33 Story 7: Ivan, 20, Male How old you were when you got your first tattoo? Why did you get it? I got my first tattoo when I was 19, in the middle of my freshman year of college. I was really homesick in my first semester; my parents lived in another part of the world and all of my friends were at least a six-hour drive away. My first tattoo was a state outline of my home state, Illinois, because it reminded me of home and the supportive community I grew up around. To me, the state outline touched upon all of the ideals that I hold dear; I’ve always stressed the importance of relationships, roots, and community. Did you use a well-established tattoo parlor? What was the overall experience like? Yes, I did use a well-established parlor. My previous college’s town was quaint and homely, so it was full of local shops. One of the shops that I had heard great reviews about was only a bus-ride away from campus, so I decided to check it out to see if I would be comfortable getting tattooed there. I had a wonderful experience. The owner was really down to earth and told me about his history and how he got started in the business. It turns out that he was actually one of the most-respected artists in the southern-Minnesota area. Year after year his shop had been ranked as the one of the best in the surrounding area. How many do you currently have and where are they? Currently I have two tattoos, with one being on each side of my chest. On the right side of my chest I have a Roman numeral “13;” the left side of my chest has the state outline of Illinois. Shimalla 34 Describe the tattoo(s). Are your tattoos an original design? Do your tattoos include words or phrases? Neither of my tattoos includes words nor phrases. The state outline isn’t really an original design, as I based my idea off of other state/country outlines that I’ve seen. I’ve always been fond of outline tattoos. The idea of Roman numeral tattoos isn’t really an original idea either; however, I haven’t really seen the number 13 in Roman numerals that often, so I’d say the “13” is somewhat original to me. What do your tattoos mean to you? I briefly touched upon the meaning of my Illinois tattoo, but I’d like to reiterate its importance. When I got Illinois tattooed over my heart, I reminisced over my youth and the memories that came along with it. I moved around a lot as a child, so I never really found “home” until I moved to Chicago. The connections that I felt with my friends, the state, and the Midwestern culture in general will last a lifetime, and I plan to carry them with me for as long as I live. So wrapping up, the Illinois tattoo represents home, as well as the relationships, roots, and community feeling that comes with home. The “13” has a simpler meaning. I have always had misfortune in my life, [and] “13” is known as an unlucky number. I decided to change the connotation it has. For me, life is not about always having the best fortune; it’s about how you overcome adversity and continue living. “13” means life, not death. What do your tattoos say about you and your life/experiences? Shimalla 35 Both of my tattoos are sentimental. I’ve been through a lot in the short time I’ve been alive. My tattoos show what I really value and my ideals. I’m all about family, home, perseverance, and making the best out of life. I used to be a really negative person, but I realized that life could always be worse, and I should be grateful for life. Some people pray for an extra day and don’t have the luxury of living to see that extra day. What kind of responses do you get to your tattoo(s)? I honestly get mixed reviews. My parents aren’t a big fan of my tattoos, but I think they’re growing on them. Other people normally become really reflective when I explain the meaning behind my tattoos. I actually had one peer who thought that my “13” tattoo was dumb, but after explaining why I got it, she took back her words. Concerning my Illinois tattoo, my friends back home are in love with it because of the ideals that it promotes. Do you plan on getting any more in the future? If so, do you have any ideas about what they will be and where they’ll be? Yes, of course! I foresee a couple of tattoos in the future, one of which I’ve been extremely desperate to make a reality. One of my main pillars in life is forgiveness/redemption. I used to really hold grudges, most of them for stupid things. But over the past year or so, I’ve grown as a person and really embraced forgiveness. So the next tattoo I want will be a skull with the word “forgiven” above it. Shimalla 36 Story 8: Jordan. 22, Female I got my first tattoo a few weeks after I turned eighteen. My very first tattoo was my chest piece; I got an outline done in one sitting and went for shading after three weeks of healing. I went to a very well respected tattoo parlor in Georgia. The staff at the tattoo shop were great friends of mine, and it was a family owned business that I went to multiple times before I got my first tattoo. The experience was great, needless to say, it was like hanging out with friends with a little pain. I can't really count how many I have: I have a sleeve, chest piece, about six on my legs, my hands, knuckles, and a small one on the back of my neck. I have a few tattoos that are words and phrases. The most recent word is on my hand and it says "four" and is very very dear to me. It's a tattoo in remembrance of my best friend passing away last year; he was number four in all his team sports. I have a few themes. Narnia is a big one; that's my chest piece and my sleeve. There are many others that have different meanings, but I'd end up writing 10 pages! I think getting a tattoo for the first time was a huge deal. I wanted something different, and I loved the idea of making art on my body. I was around it a lot and definitely had influences. I was somewhat of a rebel but not to the extent that I regret them now. I love looking at things on my body that were put on there so skillfully and delicately. My tattoos do not make who I am, but are definitely a huge part of my life. I get a lot of different responses from having tattoos that are so visible. Most of the time, if it's a group of older people, I reply with "Technology is rapidly growing. In ten or so years, I'm sure laser will be exceptional. It's not like having them forever on your body is an excuse anymore." Almost always, after meeting me and chatting with me, they've gotten rid of the bad judgments and nasty looks. On the other hand, people seem to be so intrigued and always want to Shimalla 37 know more. It's quite nice to tell the story of them, no matter how many times I've told them. I will probably slow down on getting tattoos in the future. I'll finish my sleeve completely and maybe eventually do the other sleeve. My tattoos are definitely a big part of my life, and it's something I'll forever be impacted by. Shimalla 38 Story 9: Josh, 20, Male I got my first tattoo at age 18, right after I had graduated from SOI (School of Infantry). I wanted a tattoo that was original but still related to the Marine Corps and showed that I am proud to be part of the infantry. I went to a well-known tattoo parlor in Savannah, Black Orchid Tattoo, and gave them the idea of an M4 service rifle with 0311 (my MOS) stenciled underneath. This I put on my ribs. During the experience, I will say I had never felt pain like that. My tattoo artist was very heavy handed, and it felt like he was tattooing my rib cage. I pushed through it though, and once it was done, I was hooked. I currently have six tattoos on my body, all on the upper half. I have one on each peck, one on each shoulder blade, one on my right shoulder, and one on my right ribs. Each tattoo has been slightly based on a previous idea but made into an original piece. The tattoo on my right peck is a ram skull, hand drawn, and it represents where I was born, Texas. The third tattoo is a revolver on my left shoulder blade surrounded by five roses and a banner that reads "Dodson EST. 1995" for my birth year; the five roses each represent a member of my family, my two sisters, mother, father, and myself. On the right shoulder blade, I have another revolver with three skulls to represent my three grandparents who have passed away. On my right shoulder is a Celtic cross that has different shading through the line work instead of in the background; it represents my faith and a little of my family history. The newest of my tattoos is a Native American Princess on my left peck; she is wearing a full headdress and was an original piece. I had the idea and told my tattoo artist what he could do, and after a few weeks, I showed up to an amazing work of art. I guess that my tattoos really just show people who I am and what I love. The responses I get towards my tattoos are mixed. Most people love my tattoos, but some older family members Shimalla 39 don't like the fact that I have tattoos. In the future, I plan on getting a lot more. I have a theme of the left side of my body being colored tattoos and the right side being black and gray. I want to start my sleeve for my left arm, which is going to be dedicated to my childhood and growing up: different characters and phrases from movies, TV shows and such things from when I was a kid. Shimalla 40 Story 10: Kate, 20, Female I got my tattoo when I was 18 years old. It was the summer after my freshman year of college, and my friend from Stetson came to visit me back home in Illinois. I don’t know how we got on the topic of tattoos, but suddenly we were determined to get them. We spent hours figuring out what designs we wanted, then set off to get them the next day. I have always loved horses. I knew I wanted something horse related because I know that horses will always be a part of my life, just like this tattoo will always be a part of my skin. I chose a picture of my horse that was elegant and simple enough to portray in an outline. I decided to put it on the upper right section of my rib cage, where it could be showed off at the beach but also easily concealed. I’m from a college town where there are a lot of tattoo parlors. I know a decent amount of people from high school who have gotten tattoos in the area, so we initially went to the most popular parlor. It looked stereotypical: posters of rock and roll bands covered the walls, display cabinets were filled with a large array of piercings, employees had tattoo sleeves and long hair, a shiny motorcycle sat in the corner, and colorful artificial lights lit up the cluttered store. One of the employees glanced at us, quickly labeling us as immature, white middle-class college students, and informed us that they were booked for the day and that they don’t have time to sit with us to make an appointment. So we left, asked Siri to find “tattoo parlors near me,” and drove to the closest one. This parlor was cleaner, with open space and natural lighting. There were two women working, one doing tattoos and the other doing piercings. We handed the artist our sketches, and sat down to fill out paperwork while she drew up our designs. I hate needles, so I volunteered to go first. I figured that if I did faint, at least I would be laying on a table. The process was Shimalla 41 extremely painful. My body was rigid during every stroke; I couldn't speak or squeeze my friend’s hand, although her nervous hands were crushing my fingers. I concentrated on holding my breath in order to keep the canvas stationary and breathing while she re-inked the needle to avoid fainting. I was surprised at the sudden relief I felt as soon as she picked up the needle. The process took about thirty minutes and cost $75. My parents still do not know about my tattoo. I’m scared to tell them. I think my mom would be indifferent, but I’m not so confident about my dad’s reaction. Everyone outside of my family knows. Most people are supportive and “aww” when I tell them it’s of my horse. However, I have gotten some criticism, mostly from my boyfriend at the time and his close friends. In all honesty, I think they were just shocked that I got a tattoo. Apparently, I come off as the innocent girl who goes to church every week and spends the weekends studying instead of partying. Shame on them for stereotyping me. I want to get another tattoo. I’m considering something large on my back. I could also expand the one I have; I could easily add some wording or shading to make it more complex. However, I have no idea what to get. Also, I want to tell my parents before I expand my collection. So, I will hold off for now, until I commit to an idea. Eventually I will get inked again; I love talking about my tattoo and showing it off. I feel like my tattoo accurately portrays my passion for horses, and I love it for that reason. Shimalla 42 Story 11: Kathryn, 20, Female I was 19 years old when I walked into a tattoo parlor for the first time. I got my first tattoo because, in essence, it represented my own freedom. My parents are morally against tattoos. So while I have been fascinated by the history, art, and different methods of tattooing, they have tried to push on me that people with tattoos are “losers, that aren’t going anywhere in life.” I did make a bit of a rash decision, however. The tattoo parlor was known in my community as the kind of place you go to for decent work at a low price. I do not mean to make it sound like the experience was unprofessional; on the contrary, the artist who did it was very polite and straightforward with me. But given that I wanted American traditional style, and I wanted the best quality around, I should have done more research than just taking the word of a friend. A friend, who I later discovered, had a pretty botched tat from this very parlor. I currently have two tattoos. The first is an American traditional style panther, on my left butt cheek, no bigger than my palm. My second is a geometric design on my sternum in between my breasts, roughly four to five inches long. As quickly as I had gone to get my panther, I had actually been thinking about the design for a while. When I went into the place, I had a couple of reference photos for the artist. I wanted a little less American, more abstract, but with the same traditional color scheme, solid red, black, and yellow. However, when I gave the artist the design, he said that it was a little too geometric than his usual style. But based on the other reference photos I had brought in, he came back with a piece of flash art that he had done before, and after a couple adjustments, I was confident in the design. When I was 20, I went for my sternum tattoo, and the design is completely different. It is actually a double-sided arrow, very basic, just a lot of black line work. I had the work done at the Shimalla 43 same parlor. To be completely honest, the line work is a little off, and that is something I have to deal with. But if you are not me, and you do not stare at it all the time, people say it is very unique. My tattoos mean freedom to me. I grew up in a loving household, but the threat of having that love and support taken away has always lingered. If I get any more piercings, I am kicked out of the house. If I got a single tattoo, my parents would not pay for school. Speaking of which, that is why my ink is in such obscure places on my body, so I can cover up around my parents and keep the peace. It was just crazy to me that these people, who love me so much, could flip a switch just because I wanted to modify my body. It is my body, and I should be able to do whatever I want to it. So I did, and each time it felt so freeing. What my tattoos say about me is a completely different beast. When I wear low cut tops people can see my sternum tattoo pretty easily. I do not want it to say I am a badass, a rebel, or even someone who is careless, but I am now easily branded by people who see me just walking down the street, in classes, or at parties. I want my tattoos to say that I am happy in my own skin, happy enough to improve it further. I feel they improve the quality of my life because they’re the most long-term decisions I think I have made for myself as an adult woman. As far as responses from other people, more often than not, girls are the first to come up to me and pull my shirt down in public. They will honestly run over squealing, “OMG is that real?” “Did it hurt?” “I can do this because we’re girls.” Sorry sweetheart, no you cannot. It does not bond us in a sense that we both have tits, so it does not mean you have any right to come up and start fondling my lady bits. Men, surprisingly and not-so-stereotypically, are very cautious about it. Every now and then they will approach me and ask, “Um, not that I was starring at your Shimalla 44 boobs. But is that a tattoo there?” I appreciate their tentative attitude, and as long as the follow-up questions are not too rude, it is usually a nice conversation. My butt tattoo, on the other hand, has had responses from a whole different crowd. Hardly anyone sees it, even at the beach it is completely concealed by my bathing suit bottoms. But as far as the bedroom goes, my sexual partners are always up for a surprise when we regroup and they notice a nice lil’ panther head on my tukhus. They either will not notice it because of the lighting situation, or they are caught up in the moment. But the majority does notice it, and either a) laughs to pieces, or b) asks me why I did it and go all, “that’s sexy babe.” I clearly prefer the latter. Despite the mixed reactions I am sure to receive from family, friends, and strangers alike, I do want more tattoos. Ink is an amazing way to express myself, and once I am out of college and my parents are done paying for my life, I will take full advantage of the medium. I have honestly been thinking about a mandala flower on my rib cage, right along where my bra strap lies. Something similar to my sternum tattoo in terms of design, but the line work will be impeccable by comparison and I want it done all in red. Nothing much further than that, but I will see what happens as far as technological improvements and the longevity of certain styles and techniques. Shimalla 45 Story 12: Mara, 21, Female I was 19 when I got my first tattoo. I had just spent my first summer working at an outdoor excursion camp in a community that had come to mean a lot to me. That summer, I learned about the importance of service, nature, and selflessness. I felt I had been changed by my experience and felt the need to physically mark that change. I got the symbol of the Celtic trinity tattooed on my back, symbolizing the harmony of mind, spirit, and nature. I got my second tattoo a year later, when I was 20. I did not think about or plan for this tattoo nearly as much as the first one. I had no intentions of getting a tattoo when I woke up that morning. I just got up and got coffee with my best friend. This coffee turned into a conversation that lasted the whole day. We discussed the way we view the world and how little we know about it. We thought about how many stories there are amongst people and shared our own. I told her about a book I had just read that discussed the nature of friends as the beings through which the world loves you. The book noted that the Greek word for friend means "place of highest safety." We both connected to this; we wanted to be that for one another, and we didn't want to forget it. By the end of the day, we both had the word tattooed in Greek. Hers, on the side of her foot. Mine, in the nook of my left arm in small font. I love it. For both tattoos, I went to a well-established tattoo parlor. Both times, I was nervous but that was a big part of the thrill of it all. I think you should be nervous about permanence. However, as a story teller, I am excited about the fact that my physical body now tells a story about who I am, or at least pieces of who I am. That's just so freaking cool. In regard to how people respond to my tattoos: my dad hates them, but still seems to like me anyway. My mom loves them, and my peers so far, have varied responses, mainly they're just Shimalla 46 curious. I don't necessarily plan on getting more, but I think I will. Now that I've started writing a story, why stop? Shimalla 47 Story 13: Nicholas, 19, Male I was 18 when I first got my tattoo. It is a design based off of Katie Holten's Tree's of the USA (II) and is about three inches in length on my right forearm. The design is a long skinny pine tree that is fine in detail and width of the ink streaks. I got this tattoo at the end of the best summer of my life, not just as a tribute to the awe-inspiring summer, but as a memory of how I felt about service, god, and grace. This past summer I worked as a Camp Counselor at an Episcopalian-based summer camp in North Carolina right outside the town of Hendersonville, where I worked with kids from the ages of 7-15 years old. We spent most of our days doing outside activities, such as camping, swimming, basketball, made-up camp games, and most of our nights reflecting on our days. This summer I was surrounded by loving and intentional individuals who I'll remember forever. When I tell people the meaning of my tattoo, I usually get a positive response, but there will be an occasional occurrence, in which the individual asking about it already has a negative thought on tattoos as a whole. I think that my tattoo says that I'm reflective over my experiences and very intentional of my actions. As of now, I'm unsure about getting more tattoos in the future! Shimalla 48 Story 14: Tracy, 20, Female How old you were when you got your first tattoo? Why did you get it? I was 18 years old when I got my first tattoo. It was the night of my high school graduation, and my aunt was in town. My whole family went together—six people ended up getting tattoos that night. I got a treble clef, musical symbol, with a heart making the top loop of the clef. I got it to symbolize my love and connection with music; the instrument I play is in the treble clef, and even though I was going for a science degree in college, I could always count on my musical background. Did you use a well-established tattoo parlor? What was the overall experience like? My experience was great! My tattoo artist is Danny Knight at Cast Iron Tattoos in Orlando. He was on Miami Ink! How many do you currently have and where are they? I have three tattoos. The treble clef on my outside left ankle. Infinity on my right foot, and writing from my grandma and grandpa on my left shoulder blade. Describe the tattoo(s). Are your tattoos an original design? Do your tattoos include words or phrases? They are all originals! All of them are small and in black and white ink. The only one that contains writing is on my left shoulder; it is what my grandma signed my 20th birthday card with—the last day that I spoke to my grandpa before he passed away. Shimalla 49 What kind of responses do you get to your tattoo(s)? People really love my tattoos. I think the one on my foot, the infinity, is the most noticeable, and people are always complimenting it. I think they are all very tasteful and even people that don't like tattoos don't object to mine. Do you plan on getting any more in the future? If so, do you have any ideas about what they will be and where they’ll be? I do plan on getting two more tattoos. I want something small that symbolizes my Sorority, Alpha Chi Omega. I would also like to get one to symbolize my children, much later in life! I do not want to get their names or faces but something that we love or did together that I can always have with me. Shimalla 50 Story 15: Trevor, 21, Male I got my first tattoo when I just turned eighteen and was legally allowed to get one on my own. The reason I got my hammer head shark on my shoulder was because it was a design that I drew myself in about ninth grade in high school and kept the image until I was able to finally get it. When I was getting closer to my eighteenth birthday, I started to go to different well-established shops around my area, trying to decide which parlor I was going to finally get my ink done at. I chose a small but well off shop in downtown West Palm Beach, called Guru Tattoo. It wasn’t the nicest shop I’ve been in but definitely a decent place. Everyone there was kind and helpful when it came to questions and information about tattoos, which made me comfortable going under the needle. Since then I have gotten five more tattoos just on my upper arm and have been adding to the half sleeve I hope to finish one day. Each tattoo I have gotten over the years has been in different shops, but I feel that just adds to the story about all my tattoos. My second tattoo, and ultimately the starting point for the style of artwork, was my “lucky” one on my lower bicep, which is a direct image for the late and famous, Sailor Jerry. From there I have kept the style of work but made my own versions and images with that style. The next was my rose that means family, and the red is for the blood of family, which also is a cover up of a bad mistake I made in the past. After that came my revolver, and it has scripture around the gun, which means faithful injustice. It’s a jab at the Marine Corps for how I was treated while in the service, but I still represent the Marines in everything I do. The last ones I have are my nautical star and “apply pressure” diamond and coal piece, which I got at the same time. The apply pressure stands for Shimalla 51 even though things can seem bad on the outside, through pressure and trials, things can turn out to be just what is desired. I do not get any bad remarks towards my tattoos because I treat them as art with a meaning behind them, which most people treat tattoos the exact opposite in my experience. Negative feedback is something I have never had to deal with. I, for sure, plan to get more tattoos on my arm to fill out the half sleeve, and whatever I chose to get at that time will definitely be more traditional than what I draw myself but will still have that personal flare all tattoos should have. Shimalla 52 Story 16: Victoria, 21, Female I got my first tattoo when I was 18 years old. I got it because I knew I wanted to get one, and luckily the right time and place presented itself when I went home for winter break my freshman year. It took about a week from when I got my tattoo (a tribal cross) drawn up by one of my cousins and went to the parlor in Yonkers. My parents knew I was going and were okay with it; I think they know I execute a lot of things I say I’m going to do, so they couldn’t prevent me from getting it. Overall, I liked the treatment and service I received at this place, which I only went to because my cousin who took me was very fond of it. She trusted the artist very much, but now that I’ve had this tattoo for three years, I can see that my tattoo is slightly slanted, and I can’t be too upset because I guess it happens. I’m assuming it was because of the way my neck was positioned. I have two tattoos: the tribal cross on the back of my neck and the other, which is a Walt Whitman quote, on the right side of my ribs. Both are pretty original and unique in their own ways. There are sometimes when I feel like they aren’t, and that has mostly to do with the placements: I guess ribs and neck have been particularly popular places recently. Although I really do like the look of tribal and cross together, and I also like the quotes on my ribs. Naturally the reactions I get aren’t too astounding; most just nod approvingly and some are really complementing. I just own my decisions and say thanks. The first tattoo is a testament to my faith, Catholicism. The second one is a testament to my ambitions as a writer and my favorite poet. I won’t get a tattoo unless it acts as a type of testament to my life, and so I definitely plan on getting more tattoos as my life continues to transpire. One I’m speculating right now: NYC inspired tattoo to represent where I was born and raised. Shimalla 53 Interview: Tattoo Artist David Camp, 41, Male I was 30 years old when I got my first tattoo. I had wanted one since I was 17, [but] all kinds of things seemed to keep me from getting one. I started drawing tattoos for friends while I was in the Navy. I saw how they were rendered and wanted to do it myself. After trying to get an apprenticeship and failing to find one, I went to art school when my time in the service was completed. I went to SCAD [and] got a BFA in 3-D animation, but a friend of mine was tattooing at California Tattoo, the oldest shop in the southeast, who wanted to move back to his hometown, and he got me an apprenticeship to replace him. It was my friend Rob Carter who gave me my first tattoo and my apprenticeship. I have 13 or 14 separate tattoos; I don't know how you would count a sleeve. My right arm is sleeved. I first got a panther on the upper right arm; it was a memorial for my younger brother who was caught up in the thug-gangster culture pushed by the mainstream social engineers. I later filled my right arm with a dragon done in an American traditional/Japanese style. I have always liked dinosaurs and dragons, and it’s my right arm, so the power of the dragon you could say is in my right arm. All of my tattoos have meaning; some are very personal, some not so much, and all are not obvious. I like the ambiguous nature of a well thought-out tattoo. They can be interpreted differently by people and have multiple meanings. A picture is worth a thousand words: very true when it comes to tattoos. I have been tattooing for ten years now, and I find it to be a very rewarding job! There is no other job I can think of that is quite like it. It is always a challenge; I try to do every tattoo I do the best I can. I want to out-do my last one. Working with living art can be overwhelming if you think about it too hard. And no two people are the same; the skin varies tremendously from Shimalla 54 person to person. And the healing is almost as important as the tattooer. If the tattoo is not treated properly as it heals, it can affect the way it looks forever! I can't believe the amount of people that will spend good money and pain to get a tattoo only to ruin it by going to the beach and sun burning it while it is trying to heal. There are always patterns/trends in tattoos. In the 1990's, the Goldberg tribal arm band was very popular. Now I cover ‘em up mostly. Almost all sleeves have at least one cover-up in them, usually an arm band. People will do the same tattoos they see on their favorite movie star/pop-star, things like the Breanna stars or Miley Cyrus, Nicole Richie cross, Eve's catpaws. But now, digital media moves the trend. Now people come in with images on their phone from Pinterest or Google and want the same tattoo. So many times we draw the same feather with birds or anchor that won’t sink infinity that we have a book called “Trending,” filled with variations of the same designs. Sometimes people are put off by us having it already drawn and say they don't want what other people have! Just after showing me a picture of a tattoo on another person that they wanted. People are silly. We get a lot of people who don't want flash (designs on the wall) because they don't want what others’ have, so they request the first image on Google search, which is ironic because that is the trend. Nobody gets flash anymore! That would be way less popular and, therefore, more unique. People are silly. I have had people share their reason to get the tattoo so much I feel like a therapist. Most people feel they have to share their reasons because of the TV shows I think. For a lot of people, getting tattooed is like a release or a therapy. I try to remind some of my customers to not only get tattooed because of bad things, [but] get some positive tattoos as well. I have a hard time talking someone out of going all out after they have had a loved one die. I think it is good to go through some grieving process before doing a sleeve of tomb stone stuff, especially when they Shimalla 55 are as young as 18; a constant reminder of your dead loved one might be better expressed by a positive image of the person rather than something sad like a death date. I think tattoos say a lot about the wearer. Each one can be indicators. Like I said, a picture can say a thousand words. I have said jokingly for some time now that the only thing scarier than clowns is the people who get clown tattoos! Tattoos can definitely say a lot about a person. They are personal expressions for sure. And people are very judgmental, so it is wise to not get too many in very visible places until you have your job secured. I have had girls that work at the bank get a new general manager and then have to cover up tattoos they have had visible for years, so it's something to consider. Society as a whole will react differently depending on where you are. I have traveled to places that there isn't as many tattooed people, and you do get treated differently. I've had mall security follow me around stuff…like that. And in some countries, it is still very taboo; like in Japan, they are still looked down on and won’t let you go to public pools and beaches with them showing.