An Island, a Tree

Narrative by Su Luo, Posted January 8, 2026

Image courtesy of the author

Semioticians analyze symbols, so for this series, we’ve asked 25 of our semio colleagues from around the world to explicate the symbolism of… one of their own tattoos.

An island has always carried a feeling of juxtaposition for me: it is alone yet, in a sense, also surrounded.

That duality has followed me for most of my life — as the only child, often independent, often observant, and yet always connected to something larger. The relative ideas of independence and togetherness led me to the design of my tattoo. Much like one of my favourite photography collections, Alone Together by Martino Marangoni, the blurry line between solitude and companionship, the self and the collective, internal feelings and the external world, has always fascinated me and somehow represents how I feel. My tattoo is an attempt to distill that tension into a quiet landscape on my skin: a small island with an olive tree, and a constellation of fine lines and stars.

I got the tattoo in Taipei, after moving here from Shanghai, my third city in a decade. The shifts and transitions in my life have long been a source of inspiration, yet in the midst of adapting to a new place, I found myself longing for something that wouldn’t change. At that moment, a Korean tattooist I had followed for years happened to be doing a pop-up in Taipei, and it felt like a reminder to stop waiting before time moves again. Culturally, tattoos carry weight in Chinese society, tied to both gangster symbolism and Confucian ideas of filial piety. For years, even though I wanted one, those norms held me back. But that year, not only had I moved again, I also got married. As I built a life with someone and stepped into a new phase, the choice felt like a declaration of independence.

So did the design of the island itself. The year I got married, in theory, the moment when one becomes least alone, was also when the idea of internal independence surfaced most strongly for me. A self that holds the never-fading energy that keeps me whole. Choosing an island during a year of union felt like a way of celebrating individuation within togetherness.

The olive tree is the other central element of the tattoo. In Mandarin, “tree” sounds like my name, Su, and that phonetic echo has always felt like an invisible thread connecting me to this symbol. Over time, I’ve found myself drawn to the qualities a tree represents: reliable yet self-sustaining, calm, quietly wise, and growing at my own pace. Among all trees, the olive tree resonated most, with its thin, dark, solid leaves, its modest elegance, and its rooted resilience.

The fine-line sketch style was also intentional. I am drawn to detailed, delicate aesthetics that stand apart from the thick, expressive lines associated with loud declarations on the body. Fine-line tattoos feel subtle, quiet, and intimate, yet still distinct, much like the way I move through the world.

Tags: Tattoo You

Work with Us

Our Insights

Topic

Type

Tags

An Island, a Tree