What Stays

When I was eighteen I booked an appointment at the tattoo studio around the corner because I wanted black stars and a moon on my upper arm. Fifty euros deposit, come back in a week. I never went back. The doubt paralyzed me—what if I got bored with celestial bodies? What if this was a huge mistake before the needle even made contact?

Yasmin Shizue from Brazil didn’t let that stop her. She’s a tattoo artist, which means she holds the needle, and she’s also tattooed, which means she’s felt it herself. Photographer Erika de Faria shot her for the site, and what struck Erika was how Yasmin’s work—both as an artist and on her own skin—carries something specific. After she discovered drawing and tattoos, Yasmin worked as an assistant for another artist before opening her own place. The fine line work, the way she keeps returning to nature, the way the symbols and designs feel like they’re revealing something true about her rather than just showing off technical skill.

There’s something about working with your hands that teaches you about commitment. You can erase a drawing. You can paint over a canvas. But a tattoo stays. Maybe that’s why the best tattoo artists are the ones who wear their own work—they know exactly what they’re asking of you because they’ve lived with the consequences.

Yasmin gets it. The marks don’t come off, and that’s the whole point.