Entry 3: 6/12/2026
Artist: Horigoro III
Bodysuit Theme: Karajishi Botan
Source: World of Japanese Tattoo


Had to pull the bookmark out and share this one. This was one of the first bodysuits that made me realize depth in tattooing doesn’t always work the way I expected it to.
I usually think of depth as something I look into. A road narrows toward the horizon. A room recedes toward a doorway. A figure stands in front while something else waits in the distance. This Horigoro III Karajishi Botan suit does something different. The body isn’t flat or still. It wraps around shoulders, ribs, arms, hips, thighs, and the curve of the back. So the challenge isn’t just creating depth. It’s creating depth on a surface that keeps turning away from you. Here, the eye isn’t pushed far backward. Instead, the depth comes from compression: multiple layers pressed into the same body space.
On the first look I saw the obvious parts: lions, peonies, rocks, clouds. The suit isn’t hard to identify. The large Karajishi on the back comes forward head first, with the body close behind. The face, mouth, curls, and claws give me something clear to hold onto. Slowing down, however, I started noticing how almost nothing sits by itself.
The Karajishi is readable, but it’s never completely separate from the world around it. A peony overlaps the body. Dark rocks interrupt the lion’s outline, then disappear back into the surrounding field. Cloud clusters separate layers of earth, flowers, and smaller karajishi. The red mane rises toward the shoulders, but even there, it is pressed into a crowded field of clouds and surrounding shapes. Even the red peonies help the layering. Sometimes they pop forward, but other times the same red just peeks through, reminding me that the flower is still there even when it’s partly buried between clouds, rocks, and animal forms.
The more I look, the more I want to count what overlaps what. The strange part is that none of these layers feel really deep on their own. It is not like a landscape painting where the eye gets to travel far into the distance. Everything feels compressed and close to the surface. But the layers keep stacking.
A flower sits in front of part of the lion, so my brain imagines the lion continuing behind it. A cloud slips between forms, so the space starts to feel divided. A rock interrupts the background, then disappears back into the surrounding field. Even the smaller lion near the right hip feels partly swallowed by the background and flowers around it.
That compression makes the suit feel deeper than the surface it sits on. If every element sat side by side, the suit would probably still be beautiful, but I think it would feel more like separate motifs arranged on the body, rather than a crowded world pressing around the lion. Instead, Horigoro keeps letting things disappear behind other things. The suit gives me enough clarity to know what I’m looking at, then enough overlap to make me feel like I’m only seeing part of it.
I’m still learning how to see this clearly, but this bodysuit gave me a new perspective on depth in bodysuits: not depth as open distance, but depth as compression. How much of the depth in a bodysuit comes from what we can see, and how much comes from what we have to complete in our heads?