About the Book
Written in a breezy, engaging style, this lavishly illustrated book by author Carine Fabius (creator of the Earth Jagua all-natural black temporary tattoo kits) takes readers on a journey into the heart of the Amazon jungle, where the jagua fruit grows. Inside you will find:
- 40 pages of gorgeous color photographs, including contributions by noted documentary photographer and travel writer Cristina Mittermeier
- Over 25 black & white photographs and illustrations
- The author’s personal account of her and her artist/explorer husband’s journey into the world of temporary body art, beginning with henna and culminating with the discovery of the jagua fruit’s promise to deliver a beautiful tattoo that looks real—yet fades after two week
- Excerpts from her husband Pascal Giacomini’s diary as he travels on a motorized dugout canoe into the deepest reaches of the jungle, where he spends weeks with an indigenous group called the Matsés
- Brief histories of various indigenous groups associated with jagua
- Personal and insightful essays by veteran explorers and lovers of the Amazon
- Information on the medicinal and mystical properties of the jagua fruit
- Magical tales and beliefs surrounding this extraordinary fruit
- A short history of tattoos
- A short history of ink
- Frequently asked questions (and answers, of course!) about jagua tattoos
- Overview of the Amazon, the Indians that populate the area, and issues that currently dominate throughout the region
- Traditional tales from the Amazon
Photography by Pascal Giacomini
and Cristina Mittermeier
Published December 2009
by Kouraj Press
264 pages, illustrated
ISBN 9780978 500313
NOTE: This book is also available as a digital download
in Apple iBook and Amazon Kindle editions.
Excerpt from Jagua: A Journey into Body Art from the Amazon
The yellow rubber gloves are on and my splattered apron safeguards my clothes. Spatula in hand, I stand over the noisy whirring of a XXX-size KitchenAid mixer filled with a shiny, viscous black goop when my husband shouts from across the room, “Don’t breathe on that!”
“I‘m not breathing!” I say.
I step away from the mixer and feel a squishing sensation underneath my foot.
“Oh no! Do you think you could ever one day wipe up a spill when it happens?” I ask. “Now I‘m going to have it all over my foot. Look, it splashed up on my leg too.”
He ignores these comments. He's too busy pouring jet-black jagua fruit juice from a plastic gallon jug through a funnel and into a sieve in order to make sure any remaining sediment doesn't make its way into the mix. At the bottom of the jug, it's all sediment. With a black plastic spoon he pushes the thick stuff through the strainer so that he can gather every last drop of this rare, precious liquid that we like to call “black gold.” In the process, some of the juice splashes on his chin. No matter the precautions, we always end up looking like we work in the semi-permanent ink business, which, come to think of it, we kinda do. A few minutes later, I pull off my gloves and stare in horror. My hands have turned completely black.
“How did this happen again?” I say. “How did it do that? Thank God jagua doesn’t stain the nails!”
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