‘It’s always with you,’ says Winnipeg pioneer in use of cremation ashes for tattoos to commemorate loved one

Kerri Parnell’s new studio has few of the stereotypical trappings of a tattoo parlour.
There’s no heavy music playing or gothic images on the wall.
Instead, a spa-like environment surrounds the visitor; gentle music plays, lush greenery greets the eye, and the inking is done one person at a time in relative privacy.
Most clients are there, sometimes with family, to receive memorial tattoos for loved ones.
BROOK JONES/FREE PRESS
Cremation Tattoos’ Kerri Parnell offers her service to help people grieve, to talk more openly about death: ‘Heal with death, acknowledge it.’
While the practice isn’t unusual these days, few tattoo parlours specialize in it and few are curated with such sensitivity to the grieving process.
And this isn’t even the most unique thing about Parnell’s studio.
The artist is a Canadian pioneer in cremation tattooing. The practice — which uses carefully prepared ink infused with cremation ashes delivered by the client to the artist — allows families, partners and friends to pay tribute to loved ones by carrying a physical part of them on their body.
“Somebody passed in December, and his father, wife and sister came, and they all got a tattoo on the same day,” says Parnell.
“Just watching them console each other and talk about him — it’s kind of amazing.”
That Parnell (who does regular and non-memorial tattoos, too) was able to secure cremationtattoos.com as her website domain (her company’s name is also Cremation Tattoos) gives you some sense of the relative novelty of the practice, which has been gaining popularity since the 2000s.
Holly Shearman’s feather memorializes her late mother.
But it’s easy to forget that, until recently, cremation itself, while it’s been around for millennia, was unconventional in Western culture. It wasn’t until about 40 years ago that it started to gain acceptance in the mainstream.
There are many reasons for this, but one has to do with the emotional attachment people often feel for the body and the resting place of a lost loved one.
For whatever its religious connotations, the idea of “ashes to ashes” seemed harsh, too final, for many initially.
Yet it’s perhaps more obvious today that cremation rituals can be a deeply meaningful experience — and in fact, as anthropologists like Douglas Davies have explored, they’ve long held a sacred place in cultures across the world.
Many of us will at some point attend an ash-sprinkling ritual, offering a chance to reflect on a loved one’s continuity with nature and the people they knew.
For Parnell, cremation tattoos are also about this reflective experience and sense of continuity.
“The day before my grandmother died, I gave myself the first tattoo … then it was her ashes that I used for that year to really study how to do the mixture, make sure it was sterile and clean,” says Parnell.
“Once I figured it out, I tattooed my grandmother’s ashes in the same tattoo, and now I really feel her with me… You’ll never lose it, it’s always with you.”
Parnell says that almost half her clients are first-time tattoo recipients. Some opt for simple, small designs — a memorial tattoo can be as minimal as a dot or line — while others exercise Parnell’s artistry with more elaborate designs.
Rachael Carfrae’s tattoo is based on a photo.
One tattoo she created in collaboration with recipient Rachael Carfrae is based on a photo of Carfrae with her late son Cayden, who died unexpectedly in 2024 at age 24.
The Winnipeg musician — known by his stage name, Caid Jones — was also a youth advocate and mentor at Graffiti Art Programming and Studio 393. Hundreds of social posts memorializing Carfrae in the weeks and months after his death reflected his major impact on the local music community and beyond.
“I already knew the image I wanted, as I had seen a picture online shortly after Cayden’s passing that took my breath away,” says mother Rachael. She and Kerri made some variations to the picture, like adding his signature baseball cap, to better emulate Cayden.
“Kerri provided such a safe space in her studio… I felt comfortable to laugh, or to cry.
“The tattoo itself has many meanings for me, reminders that I sometimes need daily at this stage in my grief journey. It reminds me that Cayden is only a breath away at any given time.”
Parnell is delicate about her role in the grieving process and says she hopes, in her modest way, to facilitate support and communication among those she’s worked with.
To this end, for instance, there’s a “Legacy Log” section on Cremation Tattoo’s website where people she’s worked with can post photos and memories of their lost loved one and connect with one another.
But her studio is also, she says, a place of openness and sharing for those who want to express what they’re going through.
“One thing that our culture doesn’t do is talk about death enough,” she says. “And I think it’s healthy to talk about it… it’s the one thing that unifies us all, without skin, without religion, without anything.
“Let’s help each other talk about death, heal with death, acknowledge it.”

Conrad Sweatman
Reporter
Conrad Sweatman is an arts reporter and feature writer. Before joining the Free Press full-time in 2024, he worked in the U.K. and Canadian cultural sectors, freelanced for outlets including The Walrus, VICE and Prairie Fire. Read more about Conrad.
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