ARTFUL ASHES CODE

ARTFUL ASHES CODE

In Russia, where the government tattooed prisoners until 1863 and 95% of high-security convicts are tattooed today, an incredibly complex code language operates. An outline of a teardrop implies that a murder is coming, and if the murder is successful, the teardrop is filled in. A watch with no hands indicates a life sentence, signifying time standing still. The most frequent crime-related tattoos have their own lexicon. In a sample of 100,000 prisoners, The Economist found 117 inmates with a variation of the phrase “Mother Tried,” 31 with “Fuck the Police,” and seven with “Your Name” on their penises. Some tattoos are more common than others. Still today they have that same association, and for good reason: Tattoos remain an incarceration rite of passage. Until the late eighties and early nineties, tattoos were often an unspoken sign of a long-term prison sentence. But that saturation wasn’t always the case. These days, tattoos are considered socially acceptable, if not mainstream nearly 29% of Americans had tattoos in 2016. Today, we’re finishing this octopus, because when you cut off an octopus’s arm, it grows back.” My tattoos represent ways that my family and I are survivors. “I lost my arm and most of my toes, and my feet are scarred. “When I was 10, I touched a power line, and it blew out a breaker at 62,000 volts,” he explains. One of the most popular Hellions is an armless man receiving a full-color octopus tattoo over his chest and back, with an arm being inked onto the stub of his own arm. Stories of redemption and hope are everywhere. Some attendees want the handwriting of a deceased loved one placed on their bodies as a sort of physical memorial. One attendee’s grandfather received an arm sleeve to commemorate his World War II service he has come to Hell City to put that same tattoo on his arm. Several artists show me tattoos of burning crosses they got as “a fuck you to religion.”Īnd yet I also meet many Hellions who have deeply personal, meaningful reasons for each piece of artwork on their bodies. Ohio artist Nathan Varney explains very seriously that his tattoo of a waffle is an homage to his grandmother, who used to make him - you guessed it - waffles. Shockingly questionable tats (and explanations) are a dime a dozen. At least Big Greg’s tattoo is intentional I meet dozens of Hellions who have alcohol-induced ink and no memory of receiving it. Little do I know, beefcake is just the beginning. This crowd’s passion is permanently modifying their bodies and having a damn good time doing it. Come night, pool parties offer the perfect opportunity to display new ink in skimpy bikinis.

1 hottie in the Hell City Hotties pageant. During the day, busty women are ogled on stage as they compete for the coveted honor of being named the No. Hell City in particular is legendary for its raucous traditions, including freak shows and live burlesque. Why was I even at this rowdy convention? To dig into this billion-dollar industry. In return, all I got were a few stony glares and a puff of sweet-smelling smoke blown in my face. I tried to casually nod as if I, too, were in the know and that my stripes were hiding some badass barbed-wire tattoo. My fellow convention-goers, adorned in head-to-toe tattoos, gauge earrings and the like, were braving the sweltering summer heat to smoke cigarettes and weed outside the building, creating a pseudo gauntlet that I awkwardly ducked through. I trotted through the doors of Hell City wearing cheerful nautical stripes and embroidered flamingo espadrilles - an outfit that had seemed like a better idea back in the confines of my hotel room. This year, a virgin-skinned writer from Minnesota joined the throng. These deeply devoted fans, or “Hellions,” as they call themselves, can get fresh ink, watch their favorite artists in action and even show off their own tats to win prizes.

Hundreds of artists and enthusiasts descend upon the Phoenix hotel for the Hell City Tattoo Festival, a sort of mecca for lovers of body modification. Once a year, stunned vacationers at the upscale Arizona Biltmore find their posh summer retreat invaded by hordes of scantily clad, tattoo-laden guests.

Artful ashes