My object is a tattoo. It's a physical representation of an existential idea. It's like the Eastern idea about emptiness or nothingness: Sunyata.
In 2020, I had a genuine, profound moment, what you could call an epiphany or a realisation.
I was teaching Buddhism to year 13 students. The more I talked about it, the more I kind of ironically, grew attached to the philosophy. I say ironically because in Buddhism, the idea is about reducing attachment to things.
Buddhism is quite an attractive idea for me and reflected the philosophical discussions I was having in my own head dealing with, you know, deaths of family members, having a child and professional things and stuff like that.
I was teaching a class about emptiness. It’s a weird concept. Those 2–3 hour discussions with 17/18-year-olds, kind of twigged something in my brain. I really like this idea of emptiness or no-thing-ness. Nothing exists independently.
So, in front of a class of year 13 students, I just kind of just went, "Oh." It was noticeable, my students were like, "What just happened?" I went, "I think I found my favourite thing about Buddhism."
So, on the 19th of December I was sitting in Ramsgate in the tattoo parlour, having a fantastic conversation, while an indelible mark on my wrist was created. It’s always with me. Now every time things are a little bit shit, a bit terrible, I've got this thing and my brain will just remind me.
"Pause, it’s nothing."
I have a moderate anxiety disorder and I'm undergoing assessment for either ASD or ADHD, so big things and so for me it’s recognizing that cognitive issues aren't issues, they are a part of the natural tapestry of life. For example, I hate talking to strangers. I'm sitting here and my heart is racing. I'm very conscious about how I appear to someone like the photographer, how I sound when you're recording my voice.
So, I'm sitting here and all of this is going through my mind. But I'm kind of subconsciously reminded that it's on my wrist. I don't necessarily have to look at it, but if I move my arms a little, I see a flicker of black. I almost like centre myself, ground myself. It reminds me that actually everything that is happening now is just a thing. If I give that moment power, it's going to consume me.
There's nothing to it, it's just human experience. Then we can move on.
This moment will pass. I'm calmer.
If it could say one thing? "Don't be afraid."
