“My body is my journal, and my tattoos are my story.” Photographer Oscar Munar gets under the skin of proponents who love the world of ink.
“She had a flower tattoo on her wrist; “What does that mean?” he asked her. “Absolutely nothing,” she said, “it’s just a flower.”
“He whirled in the water and grinned at me. Damn, he was a handsome bastard. I realized he was half-naked. Blue swirls of tattoos painted his chest. When God made that chest, he did it to tempt women.”
“They keep track of time. Sometimes things happen and you feel that you need to mark them down.”
“Our bodies were printed as blank pages to be filled with the ink of our hearts.”
“I’ll become someone new. Through blood and pain and ink, I can be remade.”