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Inner-Sparkk

I’m a self-taught tattoo artist. I’m passionate about tattooing. Just to be able to create something with your hands, step back, and see realism, I love that. I was blessed with this talent.

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You only think you’re strong.

I thought I had a stronger mind. The years have passed, and yet my sanity remains only to see those around me lose theirs. I thought I was strong, even to say the least. This place could not reach me. I live in a place that’s dark, lucid at times, where things seem surreal only to realize this is reality. The harsh life in solitary confinement is reality, but dark. There are voices everywhere, sounds everywhere. You’re in a cage like an animal; you get fed like an animal. If you act out, you get treated like an animal. You are the last; you’re the scum of the earth. This dark place is hell. This is where I realized I was not strong enough, that my strength was a fraction of what I thought it was. A single cell made me realize this to the point the person I usually am changed into a bitter, angry person. I knew then that I thought I had strength. I didn’t have it when I needed it the most. It slipped through my fingers as I tried to grasp it. What strength? In this moment, in that cell, strength did not exist. I was at a loss in darkness. As much as I fought, I could not shake these dark feelings, and I knew then I only thought I was strong mentally. Maybe I saw myself as invincible. Maybe I thought that the darkness could not reach me. Maybe I was blind. All I knew and saw was weakness. This cell made me realize weakness in a dark place, one cell in prison solitary confinement, and my sanity was in disarray. So I lost. So I fought and lost. I tried and failed. Every day in that cell was a battle in the dark, with no sight, no ground, and futile attempts at grasping the strength I thought I had. I fought back, but futile it was, and the darkness would remain. Do you keep fighting when you know you can’t win, or do you fight until your last breath? I lost, and I don’t like to lose. I don’t think anyone does. My war inside this cell was lost, and it showed me what little it took for darkness to sink in and my strength to be diminished in a matter of seconds. A single cell did this. So I understand that when you think you’re strong, you only realize you’re not as strong as you thought you were. This is the reality of solitary confinement. This place drives you into insanity and shows you how strong you really are.

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Dive into the creative world of Inner Sparkk Studio, where art meets passion and storytelling. Our blog is a vibrant space celebrating the unique journey of our incarcerated tattoo artist. Here, you’ll find inspiring stories, artistic insights, and behind-the-scenes looks at the creative process. Whether you’re an art enthusiast, a fellow artist, or simply curious about the power of creativity, join us as we explore the transformative power of art. Stay tuned for updates, tutorials, and more from the heart of Inner Sparkk Studio.

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