.:ON MEMORY AND MEANING:.

I don’t remember a time before art…

As a child, I was constantly creating. I made costumes out of newspaper and eventually fabric, painted on wood, experimented with sculpting and ceramics, played with face paint, and drew on just about anything I could get my hands on… including myself and my classmates. Creativity wasn’t something I felt I ever had to practice. It was simply the world I lived in.

Looking back, I realize how fortunate I was to have parents who encouraged that part of me. I was given the freedom to explore, express myself, and make things without worrying whether they were useful or perfect. That freedom became one of the greatest gifts of my childhood.

Art was also where I went when life became difficult.

Long before I understood how to explain what I was feeling, through healthy verbal communication, I learned how to draw it, paint it, or write it down. Looking back at old pieces, I can often recognize the reasons or seasons they came from. Joy, grief, hope, confusion… somehow all of it found its way into my artwork.

Years later, tattooing entered my life in a way I never could have imagined…

I gave my first tattoo when I was fourteen years old.

I knew almost nothing.

I had researched how I could try to be as sterile as possible, but beyond that, everything felt foreign as information on tattooing was extremely lucrative and not like it is today.

I tried to keep it cool, but I remember being so nervous it felt like my entire body was shaking.

And yet, there sat my friend, looking back at me with complete trust.

Looking back now, I smile at that memory.

Because after all these years, trust still feels like the heart of what I do.

Tattooing has never truly felt like a job to me.

If anything, I have always felt just immense gratitude and luck.

Lucky that people trust me with something so permanent…

Lucky that I get to create for a living…

Lucky that someone would choose to carry a piece of my artwork with them for the rest of their lives.

Because of that, tattooing has always felt less like a profession and more like a

responsibility. A truly meaningful one.

Over the years, I’ve come to believe that most people aren’t searching for perfection.

They’re searching for themselves…

And sometimes art helps us find our way back.

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Throughout history, people have marked their bodies for countless reasons. To celebrate, to grieve, to remember, to honor, or simply to express something words could not fully capture…

That's why I don’t believe there is only one way to approach tattooing.

For me, what matters most is intention.

Before every appointment, I try to create a calm and welcoming environment. I want people to feel safe, comfortable, and seen. Some clients simply want a beautiful piece of art, while others are marking profound moments in their lives. Both are equally worthy.

My role has never been to place my beliefs onto someone else, but rather to meet people where they are and hold space for whatever meaning they bring with them.

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And then I became a mother.

Like so many things, motherhood changed the way I create.

It taught me the importance of boundaries.

It reminded me that a meaningful life cannot be built on work alone.

It showed me that making space for family, creativity, rest, and presence are just as important as making a living.

And perhaps that’s what art has always been teaching me.

Not how to produce more, but how to pay attention.

How to remain curious…

how to honor each season.

And how to leave room for beauty, even in ordinary days.

More than anything, I believe people are searching for ways to return to themselves.

And sometimes, through art, we remember who we are.

For that, I will always be grateful.