My first Tattoo. Not big, still heavy.
The Drawer
Not big, still heavy.
Found a photo of my first tattoo. A small drawer—no frame, no furniture. Just the drawer. It’s a simple black line, raw and minimal, drawn straight on skin.
Crooked, almost childlike. No shading, no detail, no decoration.
Just the outline—slightly uneven, like a hand-drawn sketch done without thinking too much.
But I was thinking. A lot.
When I started tattooing, it wasn’t through any traditional route.
No studio. No formal training. No clean setup.
Just skin, close friends, and a machine I barely understood.
What I had was curiosity, shaky confidence, and a love for imperfect lines.
I cared less about precision, more about feeling.
Those early days were messy—full of adrenaline, doubt, and something that felt real.
That’s the feeling I still chase.
At the time, this tattoo felt like the most honest thing I could put into the world.
I was into ignorant style—loving the imperfection, the awkwardness, the emotional truth of it.
This tattoo didn’t try to impress. That’s why it mattered.
I did it for Antonia.
She trusted me completely.
We did the session in my kitchen, in Maybachufer, 2016.
Not that long ago, but it feels like a past life now.
On the kitchen wall, I had written a sentence:
"Trust is your relationship with the unknown."
Looking back, it feels like it belonged there—for her, for me, for the drawer.
That drawer became a milestone for me.
The moment I understood that tattoos don’t have to be big or technically perfect to mean something.
It showed me that small things—if done with care—can hold a lot.
The drawer was about holding it together.
About that part in all of us where we store what we can’t carry in the open.
The stuff we don’t talk about, but that still shapes us.
Memories, mistakes, quiet damage.
We all have that hidden place—
An invisible drawer where things pile up.
That piece still lives in my work.
The simplicity. The rawness. The permission to let things stay a bit off.
A bit broken. But still full of meaning.
I hope Antonia still likes it.
Jorge