On the Origins of Tattooing - and where we are now

Lately, I’ve been thinking about something we don’t talk about much in modern tattoo culture:

For most of its history, tattooing wasn’t about collecting images.

In many of the traditions we trace tattooing back to—Polynesia, parts of Southeast Asia, Japan—tattooing wasn’t modular. Meaning, it wasn’t about “a small symbol that represents something.” It was more about the communal act of transformation.

In Samoa, the pe’a (the traditional tattoo) marked the transition into adulthood. It covered the body from waist to knee, was applied in ceremony, and required endurance. It wasn’t undertaken lightly. It changed how a person stood in their community. In the Marquesas, historical accounts describe bodies tattooed extensively — sometimes nearly head to toe — in integrated compositions that treated the body as a unified surface. In Borneo, Dayak tattoos marked life achievements and were believed to illuminate the wearer in the afterlife. In Edo-period Japan, full-body irezumi developed as cohesive, flowing compositions inspired by woodblock prints. Tattoos designed to move across the body as one continuous narrative.

Each different culture had its own meaning, but also a common thread: Tattooing was a significant, immersive, and cumulative process. And it reshaped a person’s identity.

When tattooing came to Europe through colonial contact and maritime exchange in the 18th and 19th centuries, its function shifted. It became individualistic. Symbolic in a more literal way. Image-based, and eventually, highly consumable.

We now live in a time where tattooing is often approached like collecting stickers — meaningful stickers, sometimes — but still separate pieces placed on a body rather than a body transformed over time.

Of course, this doesn’t make small or symbolic tattoos bad or wrong.

But it is a shift that is worth recognizing.

The commitment, time, and pain necessitated by large scale tattooing is challenging, particularly in a world where we increasingly shy away from discomfort. But this is also part of what makes it transformative.

Culturally, I think people are starting to feel the absence of that experience. Particularly while surrounded by the instant gratification and search for meaning ubiquitous to our modern day.

Now, before getting tattooed, people are asking bigger questions:

What does this mark? What does this change? How do I want my body to feel when this is done? What am I building over time?

This represents a return, not with the intent to copy Indigenous traditions, but to honor the mentality that tattooing can be transformative and psychologically powerful.

Of course, tattooing spans a huge spectrum. For some, it’s primarily technical craft. For others, it’s illustration. For others, it’s collaboration and personal evolution.

None of those are inherently wrong. But they are also not the same.

So, if you’re approaching tattooing as something transformative—something that reshapes how you inhabit your body—it’s worth finding an artist that explicitly shares your belief in regard to what the process should entail.

Because the experience matters. The process matters. And the long-term vision matters.

If you would like to learn more about tattoo history, there’s an awesome book by Steve Gilbert called “The Tattoo History Source Book”, that I would highly recommend.

I’d also like to share that part of this thinking has been in my preparation to be a human book as part of a Human Library event here in Fort Collins, CO. The Human Library is focused on “hosting personal conversations that challenge stigma and stereotypes” and is definitely worth attending if you have the opportunity!

Wishing you all well.

— Kyle

When I think about tattoos as transformation and commitment, this recently completed neck piece definitely comes to mind!

If you’re considering a large scale piece and want to think through the structure of it together, I’m always happy to start that conversation. You can reach out through my booking page, or join my newsletter to receive future essays like this one as they're released.