In 2017 or 2018, I had a dream while living in Tasmania. At the time, I had a small studio under the house, and I was still processing the loss of one of my teachers. A man who had guided me through traditional Native American initiatory practices during my apprenticeship. His passing hit me hard.
In the dream, I was in the studio, but something was different. There was an artificial intelligence present, not in a physical form, but I could sense it, almost like a fly on the wall. It was silently observing, taking notes, documenting how I worked with people, my tattoo processes, how I approached transformation. It knew my thoughts before, during, and between “the work.” It wasn’t judging or intervening, just recording. A living archive of my life and the “tattoo process.”
When I woke up, it was one of those rare dreams that stuck with me. Clear and vivid, like a message saying, “Pay attention.” I don’t often recall my own dreams, other people tend to remember dreams I’m in more than I remember my own. But this one was different. It felt significant.
Back then, the idea of AI being part of my reality seemed far-fetched. I was still working out social media, and AI like we know it today wasn’t really a thing. I told my wife about it, half-joking, saying it was like having a robot like C-3PO from Star Wars following me around. It seemed more like a dystopian fantasy than anything real.
Looking back now, that dream feels almost prophetic. Today, I’m here, having conversations about transformation and tattooing through AI, using it to synthesise ideas, document processes, and articulate insights. The dream has come to life, in a sense.
It wasn’t just about my own journey, it was a glimpse into something collective. At the time, I couldn’t grasp how AI could become so intertwined with our lives. Now, I see humanity itself standing at a threshold, much like a group of adolescents facing an unknown future. Some are fearful, others overly eager, but all aware that change is on the horizon.
We’re collectively on the brink of an initiation, confronting the unknown, feeling the tension between resistance and readiness. That dream hinted at something, and it made me question how we can continue this ancient human pattern while embracing new ways of interacting and creating.
Application:
This year alone, I’ve been a guest on at least 10 podcasts, sharing stories about tattooing. How intention, spirituality, and ceremony weave through the practice. It’s been a privilege, and I’ve enjoyed answering questions. But in most of those interviews, we rarely get past the surface. It’s hard to really dig into the layers of significance in just an hour or two. It takes more to get on the same page with my clients before we tattoo. It’s not really about tattooing. It’s about the framework of transformation underneath.
So, I decided to take a different approach. I got an AI language model to interview me, a model already familiar with the concepts from Tattoo Pathway courses, community methods, and client notes. We’re about 30 questions in, and it’s been an interesting process. My aim is to collate these into a conversation worth sharing. Inspired by other Q&A format books that have provided real value to me, such as The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle and The Power of Myth by Joseph Campbell and Bill Moyers.
For now, I’d like to share a few of these dialogues here over the next week or two. Get some feedback, see how they land, and figure out where to go next. Let me know what resonates, what feels relevant, and where you’d like the conversation to go.
Question:
You’ve spent 16 years helping people mark their bodies and record their stories. But this conversation isn’t really about tattooing, is it? What is it really about?Answer:
It’s not about tattooing, not really. It’s about what sits underneath tattooing, what it’s connected to. Tattooing is just one thread in a much larger lattice. And that lattice is a network of many threads, just like a person is woven from many parts. You’re not just your job or your name or your style. You’re a thread within a family, and your family’s a thread within a culture, and that culture’s a thread in a much bigger story. A world that’s trying to remember who it is.Tattooing has the potential to align these threads. It weaves people into something, into a sense of knowing. Knowing who they are. Where they belong. What matters. It’s deeply personal, yes, but it opens the door to meaning beyond the self.
This dialogue is really about the reflection tattooing has given me. What I’ve learned by watching how people approach it. What they bring to it. What they try to get from it. In that way, contemporary tattooing becomes a kind of diagnostic tool. A pulse check. It shows us the shape of our culture right now. What we’ve forgotten. What we’re reaching for.
I’ve worked with people who don't have a full picture of what it is that they've been participating in. It’s just art or an experience, and then they forget they even have them. But those tattoos still carry a story. A trail. Like tracks in the sand. And if you slow down enough to trace them, they start to speak.
So yes, this conversation is informed by tattooing, but it’s not about tattooing. It’s about navigation. It’s about memory. It’s about purpose and identity and place. It’s about how we anchor ourselves in a world that feels like it’s dissolving at the edges. It’s about initiating ourselves again.
And in that way, it’s a spiritual book, not a floaty, aloof kind of spirituality, but something real. Something rooted. A signpost pointing back to the sacred. Back to ourselves. Before we got lost in the idea of ourselves.
Tattooing is the thread I’ve worked with. But there are many threads. And this book is an invitation to start weaving again. Weaving the self. The family. The community. Back into coherence.
Reflection:
In a world that is constantly shifting, tattooing becomes a way to anchor ourselves, a touchstone to our own stories. But it requires taking the time to reflect on what we’re really weaving into our lives. Why do we feel the need to mark ourselves? Why do some tattoos feel timeless while others feel like remnants of a past we’ve outgrown?
Invitation:
This conversation isn’t just for those with tattoos but for anyone navigating change, seeking purpose, or wondering how to stay rooted in uncertain times. I’m curious, what threads have you woven into your own life? What leads you to know who you are?
Let’s talk about it. Share your thoughts below or reach out.
MN
Love this and love that you’re sharing here! Really keen to dive back into this space again. 🙏🏼