how I become a tattoo artist


” how did you become a tattoo artist? “

lots of people have asked this question to me and I love telling this story,
because it is an amazing example of how “babyJesus” sees and provides.

so I am going to tell you the story again, but this time a bit better…


I have always drawnsince I was a little girl…

two pieces of chalk and the porphyry floor outside were enough for me and the hours flew by silently

it was sufficient to be left alone with the color palette that a painter in my family had left me that I used to get lost in it
a few felt tips pens, pastels and watercolors or the mud…

that was enough for me to tell what I could see
(and don’t wonder anymore when you see me drawing why I get messy and I always get dirty from the tip of my little finger till my ankle, my own soul included)



despite the anti-conventional soul, the detentions at school and the low marks for my behavior
I have always been good at school
that’s why drawing has always had secondary importance for me
a hobby, something different, a kind of relax, hypnosis, a time killer

a way to make a little money doing the technical drawing for my schoolmates.


if you are good at school nobody tells you to go and attend the artistic high school


you are simply good at drawing as you are equally good at studying the other subjects, so why advising you to go on studying the subject that has the least chances for a successful  future career?


that’s why I ended up in the high school for accounting
and then studying economics at the university

[good heavens what a fool!]


but life drops on you what you need

even if you are as dumb as me,
(thanks Baby Jesus! I love you)


so one day, while I was a university student, I went to get a piercing on my tummy, I don’t even know why… maybe because of my premenstrual crisis, who knows!

and coincidentally, the tattooist was looking for a secretary for a few hours in the evening…

and when you are at the university anything is good to make a little money!
so I entered in that shop to fix appointments and deal with the paperwork

. and I never left anymore .

(actually I left that studio, thank God, 8 years later, but I never left that world… I have been submerged into it till up my chin, I really got into it!)



: and here I am now


to try to ease that inner discomfort through a color or a different effect
with your story and with mine

every day I get drowned in a new idea,
in a new project, in a new dream…

it is like a vortex, a spiral, a vicious circle from where you can’t get out,
. and you don’t even want it .

even if you are weird, you are different, unusual, non-conventional…
even if you don’t find your place in the world, you have understood that you can create YOUR OWN world
and remain inside there

submerged with paint jars and with any other kind of material that can stretch your hands and your ideas outside the border imaginary line of your world

to show it to the others as well [if they want]

per farlo vedere anche agli altri, se vogliono

: however it took me a long time to understand it…


for a very long time, indeed, I had not considered the option of creating my own world,
that’s why I was trying, in vain, to adapt to the known world 

to the social conventions
to the customs and traditions, thought patterns,
stereotypes, clichés…

and to what the society tells you to do and think, following its times


. and I suffered a lot .

I was suffering in the attempt of complying and obeying
because I was convinced I had to
because I didn’t know anybody that hadn’t adhered to society

yeah ok, I had read lots of books about weird people
that refusing to comply  managed to change the world

Albert Einstan, Picasso, Pitagora….

but you know, unreal people whose hand I could not shakefor real

then one day I took part to a course with other 300 tattooists and I met some of them
I shook hand to real people that had not adhered to the musts of society

I saw again, in other people’s eyes , that sparkling glitter that fills you with real passion



. and in that precise moment I started to dream again .


those dreams that I used to have as a little girl
before the effects of the society induced me to think I was wrong

there I accepted myself
there I put down the first brick of my world
there I understood that society doesn’t belong to me and I don’t belong to society
there I understood I would have always felt in the wrong place if I had perpetuated living in the others’ world

. there I completely upset and messed up my life .
but don’t think it was so easy


I destroyed everything that I had created
a huge and indelicate scraper razed everything
I suffered and hurt
and I started to build everything again from scratch
there was Lady Sara coming to light
that was the beginning of the elite avant-garde
(because before of this event, I used to be just Sara Liverani and I used to draw cartoons..and I hadn’t understood aabsolutely anything about myself)



with love, but always irriverent