Skin Scriptures: Niki’s Tattooed Prophecies

Niki (@niki.niki.niki.niki.niki.niki) doesn’t just tattoo or paint—he excavates. His tattoos look like they were clawed onto the skin by something ancient and unrelenting—like whispers from forgotten gods or transmissions from a future apocalypse. His linework is frantic, almost possessed, layering distorted figures, skeletal deities, and fragmented scripts that seem to pulse with some buried meaning. His paintings capture gods from timelines we haven’t reached yet—figures of power, pain, and transcendence, frozen in moments of historical weight.

His process is instinctual, almost ritualistic. No sketches, no rigid plans—just layers stacking on top of each other until meaning emerges. “I never fear the blank canvas,” he says. “I know it’ll be okay.” It wasn’t always like that. He first touched paint as a kid, stubbornly refusing lessons. Tattooing came later, during being in a dead-end job. A friend told him, “Just tattoo, it’ll work out.” The first mark he left? 4:44, inked straight from Jay-Z’s album cover. That first push turned into an obsession.

Now, Niki moves forward without hesitation. Art isn’t about making something pretty—it’s about making something felt. His best work happens in dimly lit rooms, in conversations that spiral into nothing, in moments where people simply exist together. He thrives in the unknown, in collaboration, in creation that isn’t sanitized.

What’s next? Whatever he can sink his teeth into—exhibitions, acting, modeling. The future is unwritten, but he’s already carving into it. “You need dreams,” he says. “They shape your life.”

Pictures by @forcedsmile.de