The last time I documented all of my tattoos was back at the end of 2024 where I had nine tattoos. In the intervening interval I have gotten seven more. Here is a brief rundown.

HISS HISS, A Destiny 2/Black Mirror Matching Tattoo - May 2025

Lighter, a Flash Tat, June 2025

WHITE TULIP, a Fringe tribute, July 2025

CARABOU & COQUI, a Matching Friendship Tat, September 2025

BOTTLED LIGHTNING, January 2026

KING OF DIAMONDS, April 2026

I’m going to wait to talk about tattoo 16, but first an anecdote.

I am fortunate enough to spend most of my Mondays with my poet friends from undergrad. Back in undergrad, I was slowly shifting left thanks to the good influence of poets, but was relatively straight edged. Didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, didn’t have any particular interest in tattoos. Over time, that would shift, but never did I think it would get to the point where I would say:

“So the average poet here has approximately three tattoos. Mind you, that’s because I somehow have 14.”

We would proceed to do a draft of my tattoos. Tattoo 15 (which is actually Tattoo 16, since I ended up getting the King of Diamonds on a whim) was just an inkling of an idea at the time. But that’s what I’d like to talk about today.

SPIRES, Tattoo 16, June 2026

This idea had be ruminating in my head for a long time. The vision wasn’t quite as clear as the end product, but what ever is. But I knew I wanted a tribute to a place that no longer existed but still meant the world to me and a tribute to the coasts I still had deep ties to. I knew I wanted a juxtaposition of styles. Bold, vibrant stained glass like colors contrasted against a black and white sketch of a place, a familiar memory in haze.

I am both child of the coasts and now very much a Midwesterner.

(A)SPIRE

The Cementland spire to me was a promise of repurpose, even if it would eventually be broken. But it was this idea that something could be recreated in a different context. It was a beacon in a landlocked state, a sign of work and progress and play.

The Lighthouse on my arm doesn’t have a specific counterpart, but the imagery is eternal. It too is a beacon, a ray of hope, a guiding beam, a signal. It’s lonely work, but it’s honest work.

When I pictured it, I knew the black and white sketch needed to be closer to my heart (I am more Midwesterner than anything these days) and closer to the other black and grey tats on my left arm and the the stained glass needed to be on the outer flank, a way to catch the eyes of others.

The additional details were courtesy of Amanda, the artist.

I think one of the joys of tattooing is the collaborative aspect. Words become sketching becoming a physical manifestation, a binding ritual, a way to remember that yes, you do in fact have a body.

(IN)SPIRE

My two favorite games both heavily feature spires. Both Destiny and Slay the Spire (and both 1 and 2 versions of these games obviously) have spires as critical locales, places where moments of significance happen. I thought about incorporating some fictional spires into the piece, but I have also learned to edit my ideas before presenting them.

There’s something about a tower climb. There’s something about the grandeur of something exceedingly tall. There’s something about the shadows cast from a construct.

Amanda asked if the choices of a large spire had anything to do with the Tower tarot card, a card representing complete upheaval and catastrophe. But this tattoo… this tattoo is about… hope. It’s about signaling. It’s about being stalwart in the face of uncertainty and a deeply personal portrait of the places I have called home and the endurance of these things.

In some respects, the eternal grind of both Destiny and Slay the Spire very much exist within the tattoo’s mythos. These are places of power, of magic, of discovery. These are a clashing of ideologies manifest into something else entirely.

(PER)SPIRE

Every time I get a tattoo, I recount the experience not as “getting at tattoo” but as “getting stabbed repeatedly.” Both are accurate. The latter is a bit more fun.

But one of the things about tattooing that I have come to enjoy is the physical pain involved, the reminder that this is in fact my body and that I have agency over said body. I get to adorn it and I get to inhabit it.

A healing tattoo is an open wound. A healed tattoo is a marker. Despite mostly just sitting or laying down, there is an exhaustion and elevation that comes from getting a tattoo and I thrive on it.

I also know that since my tattoos are for me first and foremost, that I am running out of real estate, but I still got a ways to go before that is going to be an actual problem.

Until then, we persist. We toil and struggle and work and collect images and stories and tell them and we go from them because that’s human existence in a nutshell ain’t it?

Anyways, I’m thankful to have adorned my body with the split spire for my birthday. I’m thankful to go into 35 with a signal.