My German host mother once told me that any type of piercing or tattoo is for the weak—that people use them as masks to cover up any kind of insecurities they might want to hide. As a 16 year old, I couldn’t understand what she was saying; I was still mystified by piercings and tattoos, and while I myself may not have necessarily wanted one, I didn’t think anything negative of them. Now, nearly four years and much life experience later, I understand what Ruth Ukena meant.
Tattooing seems to land on both sides of the “meaningful” spectrum (for lack of a better way to state this); there are people who devote themselves entirely to their tattoo, making it a reflection of all that is inside of themselves, and then there are people who, a year after getting a tattoo done (which is not very much time at all, as a tattoo is one hundred percent permanent) forget it’s meaning completely and try to keep it covered at all times. This kind of tattoo is what one of our interviewees, a tattoo artist of seven years on Saint Mark’s Place, refers to as a “trinket”, a tattoo with no real meaning to the wearer, a fad tattoo, something “cool”.
I think that in order to gain respect from people like myself who tend to doubt the genuineness of tattoos, feeling that the wearer is trying to suffice for a lack, either personally or emotionally, in their lives and just trying to be “cool”, one must devote themselves entirely to their tattoo, interweaving it into their sack that contains the soul. One must hold their tattoo in such reverence that it never ceases to provide a reminder to the outside world and the wearer just how much it signifies. An wonderful example we came across while roaming the East Village and Lower East Side for interviewees was a girl we met in a tattoo parlor on 1st Avenue. Of Belizean and Dominican descent, the girl (whose name we never caught) had her entire left upper arm tattooed in black with an image of the Mayan rain god Chac Mul, who is believed to hold the hearts of believers. Her tattoo not only is not only a representation of who she is ethnically, but who she is spiritually. Its connection to her Belizean roots and Belize’s Mayan forefathers, as well as its religious connection to the Mayan gods and perhaps her personal cosmological or religious beliefs make this tattoo, in my opinion, very worthwhile. It is her oldest tattoo, I think around six years old, and she will still proudly yank up her shirtsleeve to show it off.
To me, a tattoo such as this hold much greater meaning and purpose as a representation on the surface of the soul that lies within the body/underneath the skin than a “trinket” tattoo, which have unfortunately become the majority of what most tattoos are. Tattoo artists have therefore “sold out” to the industry, performing trinket tattoo after trinket tattoo to customers who have no connection to the image they are to wear and identify themselves with for the rest of their lives. However, whether the tattoo carry a great weight or serve as expression or not, every artist interviewed bluntly said “no matter what it is I tattoo, at the end of the day you gotta realize it pays the bills”.
-C Detrow
