A unique event by the Healing Ink project has concluded in New York, once again proving that in the modern world, a tattoo is not just an adornment but a powerful tool for psychological rehabilitation. On February 26, 2026, a group of artists and volunteers gathered in a Manhattan club to help people who have survived the horrors of terrorist attacks literally “rewrite” the story of their trauma on their own skin. For many participants, this process became an act of reclaiming control over their own bodies, which were once damaged by external aggressive forces.
The central figure of the event was Omer Golan, whose struggle has lasted for a quarter of a century. In December 2000, as a 20-year-old soldier, Golan was at the Mehola junction in the West Bank when a suicide bomber detonated an explosive device packed with nails and bullets. Omer survived, but the cost was immense: partial paralysis, hearing loss, numerous burns, and shrapnel that, even after 25 years, continues to emerge from his body. One such piece of shrapnel – a 9-millimeter bullet – is currently slowly pushing through the skin on his forearm, a reminder of the past.
Kintsugi Art: Beauty in Brokenness
Golan’s new tattoo, created this Thursday, is deeply symbolic. The design features three hearts connected by veins and stitched with golden lines. The idea is based on the Japanese technique of Kintsugi – the art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer mixed with gold powder. In this philosophy, cracks are not hidden but highlighted, making the object more valuable and unique precisely because of its history of destruction and restoration. “It’s a metaphor for how things break and are put back together. After healing, they become more beautiful than they were before,” says Golan, who is an artist himself.
Tattoo culture experts note that using Kintsugi aesthetics to cover scars is one of the most profound directions in contemporary body art. Instead of simply “hiding” a scar under a dense layer of pigment, the artist emphasizes its structure, transforming a physical reminder of pain into an aesthetic object. This changes the wearer’s perception of the scar: from a mark of defeat, it becomes a symbol of willpower’s triumph.
The Psychology of the Needle: Why Tattoos Help with PTSD
Craig Dershowitz, founder of Healing Ink and head of Artists 4 Israel, emphasizes that tattoos allow terror victims to “reclaim their personal narrative.” When a scar is inflicted violently, a person’s body ceases to belong to them in their own consciousness – it becomes a crime scene. A tattoo, however, is a conscious choice. The person decides what will be on their skin, who will create the design, and how it will look. It is an act of regaining agency.
The cathartic effect of the tattooing process has long been discussed in the tattoo community. The physical pain from the needle, in a controlled, safe environment, helps transform internal, unexpressed pain into external pain. Participants often cry during sessions, and these are not tears from the needle pricks but an emotional release that cannot be achieved in a traditional psychotherapist’s office. For many survivors, a tattoo studio becomes a more understandable and accessible place to begin therapy than a clinic.
A Story on Skin: From Dolphin to “Bread and Circuses”
Omer Golan’s journey to accepting his body is marked by a series of tattoos. The first, a dolphin, was almost completely destroyed by burns after the explosion. Medics at Rambam Hospital couldn’t figure out what the mark was for a long time, calling it a “decapitated bird.” Later, after moving to Brooklyn, Omer ironically played on this mistake, adding a bird’s body to the remnants of the dolphin’s head. On his wrist, where a watch literally melted into his flesh from the heat, there is now the inscription “Now.” And on his forearm, which doctors wanted to amputate, he has tattooed the phrase “Bread and circuses” – his personal response to death and attempts to deprive him of his limb.
The event also included relatives of Edan Alexander, a former Hamas hostage released last year. His mother, Yael, already wears the date of the October 7th attack and the letter “E” in honor of her son on her arm. Other participants chose equally meaningful symbols:
- Ouroboros (a serpent biting its own tail) – a symbol of eternal renewal and the cycle of life;
- Oriental plane tree (Dolev in Hebrew) – in memory of a cousin who died in Gaza;
- Abstract flows covering the marks of wounds on the shoulders and legs.
Context and Significance of the Project
Healing Ink has been operating since 2016, holding annual events in Israel and the USA. They have assisted survivors of the September 11th attacks and the shooting at the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh. This time, 14 artists, three of whom are from Israel, flew to New York. The project is implemented in partnership with Natal, an organization specializing in trauma, which ensures participants have access to professional psychological support before, during, and after the session.
For the tattoo industry, events like these represent a move beyond commerce and fashion. It’s a return to the ancient roots of tattooing as a sacred process of initiation and healing. When the needle touches the skin, it doesn’t just inject pigment – it mends the broken connection between the mind and body, allowing a person to feel whole again, despite all the cracks of the past.