I grew up near the Satpura hills in central India, where my parents worked as doctors in a place that wasn’t on the map. It was an isolated but special childhood, steeped in nature and surrounded with birdsong and branches. As the years passed, my parents moved across the country and I now live in London, so I find myself even further away from what will always be home to me, but doesn’t exist in that sense anymore. I came to Daniel to turn that sense of ‘home’ into something tangible: a slice of the past that I could capture and keep. My tattoos are a combination of plants from two places that only live in photographs and memories - fiery gulmohar trees, delicate cotton pods and heady raat ki rani flowers from the tiny hospital campus where I grew up, and trumpet vines and tulsi to remember my grandmother’s sprawling, magical house, which has since been turned into a block of flats. Neither of these deeply important parts of my childhood exist anymore, but now I get to carry them with me always, inked into my skin, and for that I am deeply grateful. Manisha