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Archive of Meaning

References, processes and ideas that guide my tattoo work. It’s a space to give context and clarity to the style and the thinking behind the designs.

 

The Last Airbender

A young hero named Aang on his journey to master all the elements and bring balance to a divided world. …and this his paraglider.

Glider

For anyone who hasn’t heard of it, Avatar: The Last Airbender is an animated series about a young hero named Aang who has to master all four elements—water, earth, fire, and air—to bring balance to the world. It’s a story about harmony, inner strength, and the long, slow work of becoming who you're meant to be. Over the years, it’s connected deeply with people of all ages. Beneath the adventure, it carries layers of Buddhist and Taoist philosophy, Indigenous worldviews, and reflections on war, trauma, and healing. It’s become one of those modern myths—entirely fictional, but strangely true.

One of my frequent clients, Simon, brought this idea to me. We come from different generations, and to be honest, I hadn’t really known much about Avatar until he mentioned it. But he’s trusted me with his tattoos for a while, and this time he wanted something drawn from the show—something personal.

But we took a different path. Instead of going with the original design, I found a Lego version of Aang and his glider that a kid had built. We used that Lego creation as a reference, so the tattoo became a tribute to that playful reinterpretation, rather than a direct copy from the cartoon.
It became a translation of a translation—something passed from story, to object, to body. Not just a reference to a character, but a trace of how stories keep moving, reshaped by the hands that hold them.

In the world of Avatar, the glider isn’t just a tool — it’s a part of Aang’s life as an Air Nomad. It folds into a staff, carried everywhere, but when opened, it lets him fly. It's his way of moving through the world, light and untethered. For a character who runs from war, from loss, and even from himself, the glider is both escape and return. It carries his culture, his identity, and his youth — all in one object. And maybe that’s why the Lego version felt so right: a child’s version of something already tied to freedom, transformation, and the act of becoming.

Here’s a small technical detail I wanted to share. In this piece, I used white ink within the composition—a technique I often apply when the design has very fine details and negative space. Over the years, darker ink can spread slightly under the skin and soften those gaps. By using white, I can create a subtle barrier that helps preserve the structure and keep the design crisp over time. The white also adds a quiet shine—it lifts the piece slightly and gives it another layer.

In the end, this tattoo became a quiet bridge between generations and forms of creativity—from an animated series to a Lego model to ink on skin. And that’s what I like about this craft. It’s full of movement. Always building on something that came before. Always shifting meaning, even when the form feels familiar.

Thanks to Simon for bringing me along for the ride.

NOt

jorge cruzComment