I don’t just paint scars, I turn them into stories that run along the skin, a living storyboard that keeps people awake. If I’d ink a front line, I’d probably wrap it in some obscure folklore—a Celtic knot of battle or a raven feather—so it feels like a warning as much as art. I keep a secret catalog of aftercare tales, because I know the line that looks sharp can cut deeper. I erase whole designs at two a.m. if they don’t feel right, but I keep going because every line has the power to change a life.