I see my gift and opportunity through tattooing, as a possibility to interpret old traditional symbols and their figurative language, from all over the world, into a new language. A language that celebrates the ancestral wisdom without borders and division.
Most of the old tribal arts are fading away, and this is my humble way to try and preserve it with respect and love.
What I've seen and understood is that no matter where we're from, we channel the same information and inspiration, just interpreted differently through personal wisdom, culture and experiences.
Cultural imagery from South to North have many similarities. Even way before any communication was shared from one part of the world to another.
The reason for that could be that nature has been the main inspiration for tribal communities through time, and that we all channel these images from the same divine energy source.

The ritual of creating the tattoo and marking it on skin has such a high potential of transformation within, and is really a deep exchange of information between the people involved. The moment you break through someone’s skin, there will be an immediate energy exchange. That makes the process sacred for me, and I have a deep respect for it.
When a person is going through this ritual, there is a meeting of pain. That pain is allowing the person to get in contact with its body, and only by being present will the person get through the ritual in harmony with the body and mind.

The pain demands surrendering both to the pain and to the tattooer. In that lies trust. And in that trust, the masks comes off. Then there can be an honest meeting of two humans that have the opportunity to share and really meet each other.
That sacred bond that gets created, is one of the biggest reasons why I love so much
what I’m doing.
It’s a magical process.



The story of how I started tattooing is a sweet one.

Back in 2012 a woman tattooed two fine symbols on my wrists, with a technique I had never seen before. Handpoking. She had tied her needle to a carved crystal and the whole process took me by storm. I asked her where she had learned that technique and she told me that a Brazilian guy had taught her in India. I wished her story was mine.

A year later a dear sister of mine gave me a needle and some ink, and asked me to mark her skin, under the trees on an island in Croatia. I did it, and I loved it.

Arriving in India, one of the places I spent most of my time, I decided to purchase all the necessary materials to start learning. But as the perfectionist I am, I wanted to do it properly. I wanted a mentor, someone to guide my hand and tell me the story of tattooing.

One day I was sitting on my balcony drawing when a good friend of mine arrived with a friend of hers. I was introduced to him as the girl who had made all the drawings in her house.
The first thing he said was: “You should start tattooing.” I told him I was ready, I was just waiting for a mentor. And so he took me under his wing, and the next day he started teaching me. A part of the teaching was that I was gonna tattoo myself with his guidance.
In that moment, while marking the beginning of a new important chapter in my life, I realized that he was ‘of course’ the same Brazilian guy that I had heard the tales off.
I had called him, and he had listened.