Tiled Mosaics & Our Freedom To be Free

I am a tattooed law student that secretly dreams of owning a restaurant. I love ballet and I often listen to Creed while I’m driving.

Yikes right?

Let’s do it again; I am a New Zealand citizen, who was born on a tiny island in the middle of the Pacific and grew up in Los Angeles California.

Well I’ll be.

Crap, I Dropped My Inspiration.

‘Inspiration’

As in, where the fuck has my inspiration gone?

As in, I’ve worked for the last 6 years of my life studying towards a degree but what the fuck is happening now that I am about to graduate?

The; dun dun naaa, what the heck is next? And can I actually be bothered doing what I have been doing for the last however many years?

I call this the clarity after the ‘working haze.’ And it has nothing to do with clarity at all. In fact, it is quite literally the opposite. It is, rather, a haze of insecurity, a clouded sense of self; and a very misappropriated motivation.

My Life Of Mistakes: Tattoo’s And the Devil’s Gin

Everyone and their mum has an opinion on tattoos, and at this point in my, as I like to call it, ‘tattoo career,’ I think I have heard a solid portion of these opinions.

I have had the stares and the questions; I have had the random people coming up to me thinking that I need Jesus; the ones that tell me I look like yakuza and can never go to Japan; I have had the; ‘you look ugly,’ ‘you’re a whore,’ ‘you don’t look feminine anymore.’ I’ve heard it, I get it. Thank you for the blessings, much love to you too.

This is the kind of stuff you learn to laugh off. People are bastards. But hey! That’s their problem and not mine.

Thankfully we are not here today to talk about bastards, well kind of, maybe at some points. You’ll see.

I’m here to talk about what I’ve learned about tattoos from getting tattoos.

However, proceed at your own risk; you know what they say about tattoos – NOT EVEN ONCE. You can’t even TALK about them or else you will be susceptible to their charismatic charm.

Oops, I Slayed my Sunday

“How are you!?”

“Oh, yeah, you know, Mondays”

Spilled coffee, a two-day hangover crisp with potential regrets, one mis-matched sock because you overslept and rushed out the door – and the deep sad recognition that the weekend is over and a new week has only just begun.

Monday’s, am I right? I’m sure they have gone down in history as the most hated and absolutely useless day of the week. After two days of mindless frolicking you are back to the organised reality of the real world. On top of that there is often this innate uselessness that you feel on a Monday; like somehow all the experience you had doing whatever it is that you fill your days with has somehow just… evaporated and left you as a the dimwitted newbie that just started. Phone calls become harder, you aren’t quite sure if you just called in a client or actually told them to leave you alone, you probably mispronounced a word that made you sound like a dick, and now you have to get your stuff together and try and do a presentation to a room full of people. It is highly likely that you will cry afterward.