Hello my friend,
Yes, I’m talking directly to you. I owe you an apology—but first, I want to tell you why.
I recently lost more than I expected—my studio, my sense of stability, and my confidence. This isn’t a complaint. It’s context.
I had just entered my second year as a private studio tattoo artist when I discovered structural issues with the building—issues serious enough that I became concerned for my clients’ safety. After several days of meditation and prayer, I came to a difficult but clear decision: I needed to shut the studio down.
I had already spent about $2,000 opening the second location—money I likely won’t get back. And in the aftermath, I spiraled. I questioned my decisions, my abilities, my business instincts. I felt like I had failed—not just myself, but the people who trusted me with their bodies, their stories, their energy.
Thankfully, my grandmother had a spare room and needed company. I moved in, and I’ve been here for a month now. Half that time has been spent in deep reflection, the other half in reclaiming clarity. What I’ve realized is this:
Aligned, intentional action in service to my community is the way forward.
Tattooing is a sacred form of self-conceptual storytelling. But somewhere along the way, I began to relate to it as something to extract from, rather than honor. I had unknowingly turned it into a resource instead of a relationship.
The well began to run dry, and I didn’t understand why.
As my business declined, I gripped tighter—on my time, my money, and my sense of worth. I began to hoard what little I had left. I told myself, I can’t afford to be generous. Can’t God see how little I have to give?
I let my external circumstances define me. I became the rag—twisted and contorted—trying to squeeze something, anything, out of myself. More money. More validation. More proof that I mattered.
On the outside, I smiled. I showed up with light and gratitude. But on the inside, I boiled.
Scarcity. Guilt. Shame. Fear. Anger. They hissed and steamed beneath the surface like a pressurized tea kettle, begging to be felt, to be seen, to be heard.
So—why the apology?
Because that energy twisted how I interacted with you, whether you were a client, a follower, or just a part of my orbit. I started seeing you not just as someone in my community—but as a resource. I fiended for your time, your energy, your attention, your money, your validation.
Not consciously. Not maliciously. But from a place of scarcity. When you don’t feel like enough, you never feel like you have enough—and so you reach. You grab. You seek endlessly for something to fill the void.
And here’s what I learned:
The void is not meant to be filled. It is meant to be drawn from.
Voids aren’t flaws. They’re portals. The space inside of us—that longing, that hunger, that ache—it isn’t broken. It’s sacred. It’s creative. It’s the birthplace of everything we’ve ever imagined, dreamed, or built.
We consume because we long to integrate. And what we integrate becomes the seasoning for what we create. We are not just consumers—we are creators. All of us. That’s our divine inheritance.
Our attention is the spark of life. What we give it to, we empower. Creation is a spell. Presence is a prayer. Even the Bible, in its own way, is a spellbook. (More on that in a future post.)
So again—why am I telling you all this?
Because I’m choosing a new way forward. I’m choosing to give more—not to prove I’m worthy, but because I want to serve.
I’ve spent years refining my gifts. But they were given to me freely, and now I want to offer them freely, too. From a place of love instead of extraction.
That means:
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More presence
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More creativity
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More honesty
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More play
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More ritual
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More service
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More magic
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More community
I want to see you thrive. I want us all to rise together.
I’m starting with baby steps as I root into this new way of being. But soon, I’ll be sharing much, much more—art, healing offerings, rituals, merch, events, music, reflections, and whatever else flows through this channel.
If you’ve stayed with me this far—thank you.
You’ve witnessed me through grief, growth, silence, and returning. You are a gift, and I don’t take you for granted.
This is the beginning of a new chapter. It’s going to be mind-blowing to watch it come to life.
With Love,
Sin
P.S. If you feel called to support this next phase of the journey, here’s how you can:
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Book your next tattoo
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Grab some merch
- Follow me on all of my socials (very bottom of this page)
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Sign up for the newsletter to get updates about community events, product drops, and more
Let’s build something beautiful—together.