Incisions sliced with a scalpel, pressure applied and the metal implant slid under the skin. Some people are ready to permanently invest in a new procedure -- turning their bodies into canvases with 3D tattoos. These customized art implantations have recently grown in popularity, but continue to baffle many. It’s a new kind of body art, a type of under-the-skin additive, which aims to embrace the individual’s personality. It all sounds quite medical; the terms are derived from the areas of the skin affected. The dermal, from dermis, denotes skin and the level of penetration indicated with the prefix “sub” or “trans.” As the subversive stepbrother of the tattoo – similarly, there is pain and blood, but the approach manages to be even more invasive, leaving many to wonder the participant’s motivation. Body-piercer/tattoo artist, Kristina Kelley, explains that “pain is something people react differently to, some people get a rush.” The rush, once available from traditional tattooing, is again within reach to some. Logan Rothschild, a tattooed Boston University student, describes the world as “no longer a place where tattoos can express individuality.” It seem that the inked-on-messages of traditional tattoos fail to generate the original shock – their edginess diluted by mass media. Rothschild continues that “today, it is more rare not to have a tattoo.” It was the group identification that drew in the original tattooed – sailors, punks, gang members. With a Journal of the American Academy of Dermatology survey finding 40 million Americans currently tattooed, it is no shock that the art form is considered common. One in four Americans aged 18-50 are inked, altering public perception. Joshua Wright, another Boston University student, theorizes that there are many reasons to get a tattoo: “maybe each tattoo has a meaning to each person, and that’s why it’s so personal.” His tattoo, featuring the initials of his deceased mother, peaks out from beneath his blue t-shirt, as he reveals, “a way to keep something important always close by.” It’s a prime example of how the tattoo industry has shifted from group identification to a more personal, permanent keepsake. With this transition, Joshua explains that “to truly stand out, you would need a 3D tattoo,” although that’s not his purpose. Yet, many are electing to have this new procedure, which began in Steve Haworth’s Arizona shop, just a few years ago. As Haworth writes in his blog: “I became a human evolution artist” the day a customer strolled into HTC Body Piercings and asked for a bracelet. The catch: this bracelet was to be metal, not ink. And, with a row of beads implanted under the woman’s wrist, the first 3D tattoo rose from daring dream to reality. Although rare, small subcultures of people are linking together to transform their bodies, the procedure is still underground. Recognizing the allure of 3D tattoos, Kristina and Ramon of Stingray Tattoos located on Harvard Ave in Allston, MA, are scrambling to obtain the license for performing subdermal implants in their shop – a difficult feat in most states. As the legality of 3D implants varies from state to state, prompting some to travel and others to be operated on illegally. Infection and other hygiene related concerns increase with the latter. The risk of scarring and shifting of the implanted plates also are amplified when these procedures are preformed in states where it is illegal. Mary Powers, a board certified plastic surgeon in Los Angeles, clarifies the legality with Columbia University student Mirela Iverac via interview; slicing the skin “fall[s] under the category of practicing medicine without a license:” a felony in Arizona, the 3D tattoo’s birth state. Filmmaker Larry Silverman’s March 2008 documentary, “Flesh and Blood” explores the trend, featuring Haworth in his self-appointed role of modern-day artist. He insists that his “medium is flesh.” Although Silverman explores the process of subdermal implants, his real investigation is the implant’s popularity. One man getting his 3D tattoo implanted sans-anesthesia in Haworth’s Arizona home enlightens viewers, “you can only go so far with tattoos, you can only go so far with Piercings,” his face reddens and muscles flex, “I want to go farther.” The practice of body modification sparks heated debates, as depicted in Silverman’s documentary. Some psychologists are accusing all those who alter their body with implants to be of a pathological nature. A tattoo-less musician, Ben Johnson, told me he stays both inkless and implant-less because to do otherwise “seems unnatural.” Despite his laidback style he quite pointedly inquires: “How do those new implants age?” But because no one can fast forward time, the future of these groundbreaking modifications remains a mystery. Others revel in that mystery. They posit that in our culture, a sea of monotony is interrupted only by art. “The body is art, and that is a beautiful thing,” muses Rothschild. In the end, it is a matter of personal taste that distinguishes deformed from decorated.
