The Transformative Journey of Brea and Dan’s Back Pieces
From Belief to Bond
Dan was never just another person passing through my life. He is one of my best friends. From the beginning, he believed in my work long before it was polished, long before VANTA existed. As a young apprentice, he sat for tattoos, bought my prints and skateboards, and invested not just in what I was making but in who I was becoming.
Over the years, I have watched Dan grow into an incredible tattoo artist and, more recently, an entrepreneur through his high-fashion label Versant. Our relationship is built on loyalty, belief, and an unspoken understanding that some dreams are too big to carry alone.
When VANTA faced setbacks, it was Dan who stepped in to help rebuild the website. He was there, quietly and steadily, reminding me that even in the hardest seasons, I was not doing this alone. We have grown up in parallel, building brands and building lives, and now, that belief is quite literally mapped onto our backs.
The Concept: More Than Ink
The idea was simple. We would design and tattoo each other’s backs. But what it represents is anything but simple.
My design is a woman holding a peacock, a symbol that has carried me through every chapter of my life. The peacock stands for resilience, rebirth, and beauty drawn from struggle. For Dan, it is the fox, clever, adaptable, and loyal, a reflection of his nature.
Sitting at the top of both designs is the VANTA heart, deliberate, sharp, and permanent, marking not just where the journey began but what it stands for.
These pieces are not about being finished quickly. They are lives in themselves, living artworks, evolving across countries, cities, studios, and different versions of who we are. They are long-term commitments, mapped out slowly, patiently, and intentionally.
The Journey: A Commitment to Becoming
Tattooing each other’s backs is not about creating another piece of art. It is about trust. It is about transformation. It is about choosing to step into pain, time after time, because we know what is waiting on the other side is bigger than both of us.
These sessions are not done back-to-back. They unfold slowly, over years, in different places, at different times in our lives. Each sitting is a checkpoint. We catch up, we tattoo, we laugh, and we sit in silence. We hurt, and we heal.
By the time these backpieces are finished, we will not be the same people who began them. Every line documents more than just an image. It documents who we are becoming. We are not racing toward a finish. We are honouring the journey, one that is as much about the spaces between the sessions as the ink itself.
Transformation Through Trust
Real art and real legacy demand vulnerability. They demand patience. They demand the willingness to be undone and remade.
These tattoos are teaching us that. Each line etched is a shedding of an old self. Each healed section is a rebirth. By the end, we will have built something far greater than tattoos. We will have built monuments to the versions of ourselves we fought to become.
Few people will ever have the privilege of seeing their evolution mapped so clearly. Fewer still get to do it side by side with someone who understands what that journey costs.
Impact: Art as Legacy
This journey has already changed the way I approach my craft. It has made me sharper, slower, and more deliberate. It has reminded me that the things that matter, the things that endure, are never built fast. They are built in layers.
Tattooing each other has become a manifesto, a rejection of the disposable, the shallow, the impatient. A reminder that permanence is earned.
Although Dan will not be physically present at Skin to Steel, our schedules pulling us to different parts of the world, he will still be there. A photograph of my backpiece will be displayed, and beside it, a QR code leading here to this story, this process, and this becoming.
Looking Ahead
The journey is not over. It is still unfolding, across new cities, new studios, and new versions of ourselves.
These tattoos will continue to grow as we grow. They are not frozen moments. They are living archives of our resilience, loyalty, and belief.
When they are finally complete, if they are ever truly complete, they will stand as monuments. Not just to what we made, but to who we dared to become.
Thanks, Dan, for having my back. For always having my back.
