Marking time: Iraq / Brazil / NYC

Facial tattoos—traditional among Amazigh tribes of Algeria, Kurdish communities in Mesopotamia, and the Bedouins of the Arabian Peninsula—carry distinct and varied meanings. This southern Iraqi’s designs are likely a mark of her tribal identity.

And so, too, in a way, are the tattoos on the man below her. As I remember, he was born in Brazil and tattooed there. I photographed him in a shop on 6th Avenue in New York City while he was inking clients. That storefront was later replaced by a chain drugstore and now sits empty, its doorway a gathering spot for unhoused men.

For most people today, tattoos are a personal, and in a more ad hoc way, a kind of “tribal” identity of choice. I am awed and bewildered by the confidence that such an immutable decision (to say nothing of skin integrity) will hold up after decades of living.

As for that immutabilty, I recently photographed inside a prison and, as a condition of access, agreed to protect inmates’ privacy by blurring faces and deleting identifying features, including tattoos. Photoshop’s AI tools made it a quick and painless task. How many people, I wonder, live with regretted tattoos and wish erasing them were that easy in real life.