Canto Cutie - Volume 3

beast or entity tattooed allows them to channel
the power of that entity. I have also heard
supernatural anecdotes about people getting
mysteriously sick after getting a tattoo of a
powerful entity, presumably because they were
not spiritually “strong enough” to control the
entity’s power.
As a queer artist, Nat speaks of her tattoo practice
as collecting animal icons as sentimental figures,
almost adjacent to the modern-day Internet furry
subculture that celebrates things like fursona and
adoptables, practices where young queer kids
project themselves and their identities onto selfinvented
or peer-invented animal characters. This
inspired me to follow my instincts. I’ve always
been interested in monsters and mythological
figures. I didn’t have a concrete reason to justify
why I wanted to draw and paint them before; I am
just never one to draw or paint something simply
because “I like it”. I need to know why and where
it comes from. It’s taken a long way from Wong Tai
Sin to Texas to find it, but I have found it.
After discovering Puca’s photography project
about Wong Tai Sin, my childhood home, and her
struggle with how her relatives in Hong Kong see
her tattoos, I wanted to share these thoughts with
the community. This is a love letter about how a
kid from Wong Tai Sin fell in love with tattoo art,
even though they still won’t get a tattoo themself.
About Tsz Kam tszkam.com @tszkam_art
Tsz Kam was born in British colonial Hong Kong
in the early 90s and moved to Texas in 2007 as a
teen. Kam’s family history of being political
refugees of communist China runs parallel to their
own escape from Hong Kong culture. As a first
generation immigrant, Kam explores the outsider
and insider perspectives through the lens of a
gender non-binary person, both when observing
American culture and looking back at their Sino
roots. By using escapism and nostalgia as an
expression, Kam reestablishes a sense of
belonging through their works.
Tsz Kam
Waterworks I
Acrylic on cotton rag mounted on panel
143