Armenian-born, Ukrainian-raised, and now rooted in San Francisco, Mané Dias turns tattooing into a deeply spiritual, artistic, and transformative act.
Tattooing has become more than body decoration. In the hands of certain artists, it becomes language – subtle, symbolic, emotional. Mané Dias, who now lives and works in San Francisco, is one of those rare few. Her work is not loud. It doesn’t scream for attention. It invites you in.
Each of her tattoos feels like a secret between the wearer and the ink. Small symbols. Imperfect lines. Emotions that refuse to be filtered. There’s no trend-chasing here. Only the truth.
An Artist Formed in Transit
Mané was born in Yerevan, Armenia, and raised in Zaporizhzhia, Ukraine, before beginning her tattoo journey in Kyiv in 2017. She was self-taught – learning not through textbooks or studios but through instinct, trial, and obsession.
At first, she practiced on fake skin, friends, and family in her apartment. Later, she landed her first professional role at Studio 22 in Kyiv. Soon after, she co-founded Phase, a small but culturally rich studio in the heart of the city. It was more than a tattoo shop – it was a gathering space, an art space, a home for collaboration and conversation.
But all of that changed in 2022, when the war in Ukraine began.
Inking Through Uncertainty
With Kyiv in crisis, Mané left for Vienna, working briefly in a local studio before returning to Ukraine. From there, her journey became nomadic – Berlin, Paris, Amsterdam, Warsaw, Bucharest, Milan. In each city, she brought her calm, symbolic style to a growing network of clients who were drawn not just to her aesthetic but to her presence.
Her work was also shown in galleries like the Eye Sea Gallery in Kyiv and the Lviv Art Center. One of her tattoo collections even became part of a capsule clothing line with Ukrainian fashion label Nothing Holy – blurring the line between tattoo and textile.
Los Angeles: A New Chapter
In 2024, Mané moved to Los Angeles to join the acclaimed Sasha Tattooing Gallery. It was a pivotal shift. America was unfamiliar terrain – but she welcomed the challenge.
“LA is unpredictable,” she says. “It makes you question who you are, and what you really want to say.” Since arriving, she’s expanded her presence to San Francisco, Phoenix, and beyond – working with clients who seek something quieter, more grounded, more poetic than mainstream tattoo culture often offers.

A Tattoo Style Built on Intuition
Mané’s tattoos are minimalist, but not in a trendy way. They aren’t calculated. They’re felt.
She works with simple tools – a wireless pen machine and a few select needle types – to mimic the feeling of sketching. She favors imperfection, asymmetry, and emotion over technical bravado.
Her tattoos might look like fleeting thoughts, surreal symbols, or diary entries. And that’s the point.
“I don’t intellectualize everything,” she says. “I let the design come from consciousness rather than the mind. And that’s how people connect with it.”
Holding Space, Not Just Skin
For Mané, tattooing is more than a skill. It’s a shared experience. Every session is treated as sacred – regardless of whether the client opens up emotionally or prefers silence.
“There’s no pressure to talk,” she explains. “Sometimes the most powerful connection is wordless. A shared focus. A quiet exchange.”
She maintains a delicate balance – professional, but open. Grounded, but empathetic. And while she’s not part of any fixed collective, she respects the beauty of temporary communities and creative collisions.

Art With a Pulse, Not a Hashtag
In a tattoo culture driven by Instagram trends and aesthetic perfection, Mané is refreshingly unaffected. She doesn’t care for algorithms. She doesn’t chase viral styles. Her approach is simple: feel deeply, draw honestly, tattoo slowly.
“I keep my eyes open,” she says. “But I only adopt things that really move me.”
That kind of artistic discipline – and restraint – is rare.
No Regrets, Just Ritual
Would she do anything differently if she could rewind her career?
“No,” she says. “My evolution as a tattooer has been tied to my evolution as a person. Every mistake shaped me. Every detour taught me something.”
Even her own tattoos – many of them linked to specific moments – are sacred markers of her timeline. “If I had to start over,” she says with a half-smile, “maybe I wouldn’t get tattooed at all. But I’m glad I did.”
Follow Mané Dias on Instagram: @themanedias