Ephemeral instants, eternally inked

written and photographed

designed by EMMA COTTER by CHRISTINE KAO

Storytime with Dad. A solo trip to Oregon. The search for a thimble around Grandma’s house. Through their tattoos, UCLA students and faculty seek to preserve precious, fleeting moments.

Elizabeth Schiffler arrived outside a tattoo studio in Chinatown minutes before noon. Her tattooist, Rylee Sky, unlocked the bright red door under the flaming spring sun, leading Schiffler to the leather couch in the waiting area. The doctoral candidate in theater and performance studies signed a consent form as she prepared to add another tattoo to her sleeve of animals.

Schiffler has lost count of her tattoos since getting her first one – a lion on her forearm – at 24 years old. She took inspiration from the stories her father told her growing up, recalling an image of a big cat leaping across a field in one of her storybooks. After her father died during her first year of college, Schiffler got the tattoo to honor him. She fondly remembered how he dressed up as the Cowardly Lion from “The Wizard of Oz” for her elementary school fundraiser.

“He had this big beard and big red hair,” Schiffler said. “That story, that very childlike memory of this animal –lion – bouncing over a field … felt like him.” ***

Butterfly tattoos run in Avalon Sweetland’s family.

The third-year psychology student’s first tattoo was a butterfly on their right forearm, paying tribute to their father who died when they were in high school. Sweetland’s father also had a tattoo of a butterfly flying between her first and middle name on his forearm, she said. And while Sweetland’s tattoo commemorates their father, it also connects them to their mother, who was the first in the family to have a butterfly tattoo.

After the butterfly, more bugs followed. Sweetland now dons more than 30 tattoos, including a bee, a scorpion and a centipede. Once she realized the bug theme emerging on her arm, she decided to run with it, Sweetland said.

One tattoo on the back of their right shoulder stands out from the swarm of insects – a golden ratio shell. Sweetland shares the matching tattoo with her mother and her aunt, who is a math teacher. The trio often spends time observing the spiral in wildlife together in the form of pinecones and seashells, discussing the science behind the beauty of the natural world, Sweetland added.

Expecting to get more tattoos inspired by their family, Sweetland said they believe tattoos are a unique way to honor important people in their life.

“It’s cool to pay tribute to other people,” Sweetland said. “I love them, so I want them to be with me forever.”

Music journalism lecturer Allison Wolfe holds a photo of her mother, whom she describes as a free-spirited and humorous lesbian feminist. A banner that reads “MOM” – in a traditional pattern that sailors would often get to remember loved ones at sea – is inked on Wolfe’s left arm crossing over a rose.

Raised in an underground music scene, the lead singer of the punk band Bratmobile said many of her friends had already received tattoos by the time she decided to get her first one at 29 – the year she returned to Olympia, Washington, to care for her mother. After her mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer, Wolfe was determined to keep a symbol of her.

“She was always real fun and rambunctious, total tomboy,” Wolfe said.

Reminiscing on her childhood, Wolfe explained how her mother never laid down strict rules for her and her twin sister – except not to visit businesses that support causes against their values.

Wolfe’s mother was also a health practitioner who dedicated her time to operating the first women’s health clinic in Olympia. But beyond her career, Wolfe remembers her mother for her candor and realistic vision. She recalled how her mother was once called to Wolfe’s high school because Wolfe and her sister were failing their driver’s safety course, which used automatic cars as primary examples. Wolfe’s mother argued with the school administrators, asking why they weren’t teaching students how to operate the manual cars families, including Wolfe’s, practiced with at the time.

“I love it – she kind of blamed them,” Wolfe said. “She’s like, ‘You don’t even teach them how to drive a stick shift, and that’s what most people have.’”

Back in Olympia, Wolfe had planned to get her first tattoo from a friend nearby, a sailor-style tattooist. Her mother was surprised when Wolfe returned home with “MOM” inked on her shoulder – but, Wolfe added, it’s hard for a parent to argue against a tattoo honoring them. She said her mother died not long afterward.

Two decades later, the color of the tattoo has begun to wear off. Wolfe said she wonders if the memories of her mother will eventually fade the same way.

“I was 30 years old when my mom died. … Your life is never really the same, so that really commemorates that,” Wolfe said. “Even the fact that it’s so faded sometimes makes me feel sad because you’re like, ‘Oh, do memories fade?’”

For fourth-year philosophy and political science student Austin Riggs, tattoos are a way of documenting nostalgic memories.

The thimble tattoo under Riggs’ left thumb represents a game he used to play with his two younger sisters. He said they would take turns hiding and finding their grandmother’s thimble around the house in carefree and innocent times that he tried to capture in his tattoo.

“(It kind of reminds) me that life can get all jumbled. … But sometimes, just play Hide the Thimble,” he said. “Sometimes, just remember the childhood joy that you can have towards things.”

Another tattoo on Riggs’ left forearm is a protein structure dedicated to his grandfather. A former geneticist at City of Hope, an organization researching treatments for chronic conditions, Riggs’ grandfather helped synthesize the human genome for insulin.

Riggs said the tattoo honors his grandfather’s work, which not only advanced public health but also provided Riggs with opportunities to pursue higher education.

“It’s a good way to pay homage and remember him and to remind myself that you have these fantastic opportunities and all these things because of the hard work that he did,” Riggs said.

Shekinah Lucas’ mushroom tattoo symbolizes her solo journey driving from Los Angeles to Oregon in 2021. The fourthyear psychology and sociology student initiated the trip as they dealt with the difficult transition of losing friends and moving back home. The 10-day road trip spent camping along the coast allowed her to practice spending time with herself, find peace and realize her fondness for nature, Lucas said. The butterflies flying around the mushroom tattoo represent not only the growth they experienced at the time but also the new beginning that awaited them in the new school year, they added. Now in her last quarter of college, Lucas said the tattoo helps her challenge her selflimiting fears.

“I’m about to graduate college, and the post-grad life was very scary to me,” Lucas said, “The tattoo is my reminder that I can do so much more than I think I can.”

Tattoos can also be a means of self-expression, helping people feel more comfortable with how they present themselves, said third-year philosophy student Mateen Bahai.

Bahai, who writes and produces music, has a tattoo on his waist that reads “blond/blonde,” inspired by Frank Ocean’s 2016 studio album “Blonde.”

The album’s cover art features the alternative spelling “blond,” which sparked fan speculation that the dual versions reflect the bisexual artist’s fluid sexuality. In response, Bahai got the tattoo to signify their own spectrum of femininity and masculinity, they said.

Since his brother introduced him to Ocean’s music at 12 years old, Bahai said he has grown to appreciate the artist’s avant-garde lyricism and subtle messages about queer experiences. They added that Ocean’s music has inspired them to explore their gender expression and be more outspoken and expressive.

“It’s (the tattoo is) just an interesting part of my identity,” Bahai said. “I’ve come to understand my masculinity and femininity more through the recognition of the idea that there can be an artist out there who is able to express themselves and able to express their experiences as a queer man.”

Schiffler’s tattooist outlines Schiffler’s latest tattoo before inserting the needle. Eight years after she got her first lion, Schiffler plans to add two antelopes on her right upper arm.

Drawn to the antelopes’ whimsical depictions, Schiffler said she now chooses some tattoos for their aesthetics rather than symbolisms.

As a performance artist and scholar who spends considerable time examining art, Schiffler said getting tattoos has become a meditative experience. The process helps her rest an analytical mind, reminding her that the arts can simply be appreciated for their visual appeal.

***

Sweetland plans on eventually getting more tattoos symbolizing their mother and siblings. Riggs said his sister got a thimble tattoo that matches his own. He now waits for his youngest sister to join them when she turns 18. Lucas begins their post-graduation job search, emboldened with the courage that emerged from the road trip immortalized on their arm.

Tattoos not only decorate students’ bodies, but also allow them to keep pieces of their history close as they face uncertain futures, Bahai said.

“Obviously, there’s the aesthetic way I see it (the tattoo),” Bahai said. “But I also feel more independent and more connected with myself and the muses and inspirations that have made me the person I am today.” ♦