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Pirouettes.


I’m not playing it safe any more.

I’m gonna take it right to the edge.

And do pirouettes.

– What are you talking about?

Pirouettes, you dumb fuck.
And if I fall,
well, so be it.

You know. Who gives a shit?

“Oliver Platt in Funny Bones” and so I have, pirouettes baby, I woke from a dream, and I was shaved clean, my face that is, and there were tattoos creeping up onto my face from my neck. This is the first dream I remember in I don’t know when, I never remember anything while awake let alone while asleep, a little gift left from too many hard knocks against my head. So after 25 years in this industry I got completely immersed, I have had visible tattoos for quite some time now, but my face, well I always thought I would never go that far, and you know, I just felt it was time, and the dream, though it had no real direction, had an impact. The problem was I just couldn’t remember what the shapes were that crept up on my face… and while doing some research for a client I was going through my flip folder, there it was, the onion domes on St Basil’s Cathedral on Red Square, that’s what they were. So the creation on my face began, and though many daggers have a negative connotation, mine is about letting go those placed in me by people I held in high regard, and of remembering that forgiveness is self love. So with this came what may regarded as an extreme tattoo, for me, I’m out there doing pirouettes

Milo Throat

 
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Posted by on February 8, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

Reception intervention


Ok so you haven’t seen a blog for some time, and that’s cause I haven’t had anything to vent about, that just changed.
I have this odd growth on my arm, thought it was a wart or something, so i tried freezing the thing off with nitrogen…. Nothing. So now I’m worried about this, and while chatting to a friend he says, dude get that seen to, I had something similar and it was malignant, so don’t piss about. Damn I better get my shit together.
Today I call Milnerton Mediclinic, and they give me the number for the practise in the clinic, 2 dermatologists, so I call them, and after waiting 8.32 minutes for the phone to be answered, I ask the receptionist if anyone can see me as I’m really concerned about this thing. She says “sorry, we can only see you next year.” So my response is, but what if this shits malignant? She in a rude tone is ” well I’m sorry, but we can’t help you” so I say to her well ok, but can you perhaps refer me to someone? to which the moron responds, “As far as I know all dermatologists are booked out till next year”
Really you fucked up ignorant , uninformed, arrogant twat, how come I just got an appointment with Dr Naidoo at Vincent Parlotti on Tuesday the 4th at 10am????
It took one call to another hospital, to get that appointment, I wonder if those dermatologists actually know the damage being done to their business by the receptionist? And it brings me to my gripe, besides the whole issue of Doctors and the Hippocratic Oath and all that shit, and that is reception, this is the face of any business, a friendly and helpful reception, will always be appreciated, and builds a great relationship with clients, but when you come up against the opposite….. well you have my experience. The cost to a business is huge, and businesses don’t notice at their own peril, it took one call for me to find someone else, and I will certainly never recommend, in fact I’m doing the opposite of recommending by writing this blog. So to hell with those dermatologists at Milnerton Mediclinic, avoid them like the plague, go to Dr Naidoo at Vincent Parlotti.
And if you feel the same way about bad service, re-post this.

On to more fun stuff, here are a few pieces I been doing, hope you love them as much as I do.

 
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Posted by on November 28, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

New


At the urging of a friend I am going to get my shit together and blog more often.
I don’t write about stuff if there really isn’t much to talk about, it’s always the empty vessels that make the most noise, just take a look around you.
Things have been a little weird of late, and I find myself out of sorts, so much so that even the wind tonight has me anxious, and it’s keeping both Little Laika awake. Actually just me, as she has fallen asleep on my foot.
A couple of rude awakenings have taken place in my life recently, one being finding out I’m diabetic, rather a great shock, but not unexpected, as I have lived my life to excess and I guess there has to be some cost.
The other has been the realisation that in 5 years of living in this city, I have made very few friends, as beautiful as this city is, it also breeds a type of arrogance and self serving that I haven’t seen in many places before. People who professed to be your friends but in truth really were only there to get all they could from you, people who stole from and lied to me, that smile at you as you pass by, the talk shit about you as soon as they believe they out of earshot.
So why stay?? well the truth is that thanks to the diabetic scare and the shit that’s gone down for me the last 5 years I have come to realise… I don’t care, I’m really happy with who and what I am, with my abilities as a tattooer and the art I produce, the small life that I share with my constant companion, this crazy little white husky dog “Laika” I’m taking better care of myself, and finding new energy, clients that really love my work are flocking in, and I’m re-establishing my client base in Johannesburg, reconnecting to my roots as it were, life is good.
So with that I start anew, and will pepper you with random rantings.

Time for bed now!!

 
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Posted by on October 15, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

Friends


I been back 4 day from Johannesburg, and it’s so awesome to be home with little Laika, home is where the little tyke is, and after parlor gave her a good brush, and a wash and dry she is so fluffy and spritely.
I do however miss my friends in Johannesburg, there are those long standing friends that you have a great bond with, and some good people I have met there that makes me feel a little lonely. I don’t miss the city at all, and it seems strange that being born and raised there, buried my parents there, and still have family there, that I have absolutely no feeling for the place, and the thought of living there leaves me cold, but I miss my friends. Make no mistake I love Cape Town, but Cape Town is a city that only loves herself, so it doesn’t reciprocate at all, and through choice, character or just plain laziness, I find myself feeling isolated and apart, and once again I miss my friends. I know it takes years and in some of my friends in Jhb, we have been friends for 30 years, we grew up together, got in trouble together… and those are the ones that even though you haven’t seen them in 10 years when you meet, it’s as though time just hasn’t passed. There are those that are almost brother or sister to me, that stuff happens without even saying, that get you and you them, that you can sit down and break bread at a table and realize hours later that it’s time to go and just where did the evening go?
So this is to all those friends, I love you guys more than you know, and more than I’m ever able to show.

Here are a few pieces I have just completed, hope you like the work.





 
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Posted by on September 3, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

Been A While


Ok so I have been away for a while and not written, but the truth be told, the last few months have been a little weird, from a work, home and retationship/frendship point of view. Nothing in life is easy or comes free, not that anything else was ever expected, and I’m a whole lot luckier that most.
It seems that as time goes by I seem to be one of those very rare creatures that really is best alone, I find myself wanting company, and not wanting it all at the same time. I often wonder if this is to do with being a tattooer, I spend a lot of time with clients, and as it’s hands on, I often wondered if I was touch sensitive and that being in such close contact made me want not to be touched or close to someone, anyhow non of it really matters in the grand scheme of things.

I been doing some cool work for my clients of late and I want to share it all with you but there is quite a bit so if I missed any out I’m sorry if it’s yours.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One of my favorite things is the Bonneville Speed Week, it’s no big deal for some, but for a whole lot of petrol heads it’s the Mecca of huge speed, it is an amazing thing, this salt flat in Utah, miles of uninterrupted space and a timed mile.
“The next time you get into your car, grab the steering wheel and give a good look at the speedometer. Let your eyes travel up from zero, climbing double digit numbers that are so familiar. But keep going. Don’t stop at 120. Don’t stop at 140 or 160. Notice if your palms are getting sweaty or if you start to twitch in your seat. Is this unfamiliar territory…staring at the notch for 180 or 200kph? Think to yourself, what is the fastest I have ever driven this vehicle? Scale your eyes back to the fastest you’ve ever pushed that needle, and then think about that brief and exhilirating moment, as quick as it may have been. Ask yourself why didn’t you go faster than that? How long did you sustain that top speed? Why didn’t you drive further? Now, if I told you there’s a place as flat as a sheet of college-ruled paper, where there are no cops, no traffic signals, no turns, no intersections, no on-coming traffic, and no speed-limit, would you push that accelerator as far as it could go for as long as you could? Of course you would. And that could only mean you were in one special place–the Bonneville Salt Flats in western Utah.” Speedweek is the annual gathering of the tribe, where speed devotees make an annual pilgrimage to the fastest racetrack in the world and put their best effort against history. There is no head-to-head racing, there is no stopwatch. (There is also no best costume award or recognition for cheapest looking girlfriend.) Drivers are racing against history–the historical speed precedent set for that engine class. The attention is purely on getting the cars to run at top speed. Everything else is secondary.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on August 16, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

The Shave


On the instructions of my ex-wife several years ago, I was told “you should go pamper yourself, put some time into your own wellbeing” I’m no Metro sexual, so the thought made me recoil at first, but as I thought about it, I decided she was right and that I would book an appointment at Salon Roma, the Italian Barber in Rosebank for a shave, and that experience began my minor obsession with shaving.
In the modern media we are constantly being sold newer better, more blades on your razor, foam that’s not foam but gel that becomes foam that moisturizes and sanitizes, electric razors that make shaving in the shower easier or in your car as you drive to work, or at 100 meters under water, lubricating strips and it just goes on and on and on, while you pay more and more for an experience most just want over as soon as possible.
Sitting waiting for my appointment dusty fake roses adorn the reception, Ferrari posters on the wall, well worn chairs and that wonderful smell of aftershave in the air, it felt great, like manliness, this was doing it like a gentleman.
Nino called me through and ushered me to his booth, chatting all the while that it had been too long since I had been in, and I remembered how surprised I was that he had remembered it had been several years, even recalling my name, it was such a comfortable place to be. He seats me, the booth is small and I’m a big guy so panic sets in for a moment, but as he effortlessly gets me comfortable and laid back in the chair, I notice that he is organized and everything is exactly where it should be. The chair is beautiful, and old dark wooden chair, the leather is Ox blood and had become that lovely well-worn deep colour. The chair is lifted, and I settle in, still chatting away Nino whips out a hot towel he airs it and with a well practiced flourish he takes either end, cupping my chin and placing either end upwards over my face, so just my nose peaks out. It feels so good, and I’m now melting into the chair, my mind drifting and in the background Nino is preparing I hear the sound of him muffled by the towel, which he now removes, he has prepared a lather in a large ceramic mug, it’s heavy, with a thick rim and slightly off white from age. He has a brush in hand and he now lathers my face up, it’s warm and thick and the clean smell of soap fills my nose, he keeps lathering my face using warm soap.
Nino picks up the strait razor in his right hand; in his left he takes the end of a leather strop and placing the blade flat against it the leather and slides the blade back and forth, lapping the leather with the steel back and forth.
He’s now ready to shave me, in his right hand he holds the razor between thumb and index and middle finger, the handle splitting the ring finger and pinky and with the left fore finger and thumb he pulls my skin tight and with a slow deliberate swipe the blade glides over my skin, it feels smooth and clean my skin tingling as the cool air reaches it. Little by little he methodically works he’s way around my face, till he’s happy, sometimes dabbing a little lather and re-shaving an area. On completion, he magically whips out another hot towel and quickly wraps my face again and lets me soak under it again for what feels like eternity and now I catch myself falling asleep, almost snoring I’m so comfortable.
Nino slowly takes the now luke warm towel of my face, he wipes my face removing any excess lather as he goes, he lifts two bottles of after shave and asks which I prefer, I like the fresh clean citrus one and he pours some into his hands, rubbing them and then briskly slaps my face, it stings, and it wakes me instantly and I feel fantastic, relaxed, just amazing.
Nino sits me up and in he’s broken English says “I’m done” and I feel fantastic which is often hard in this jaded life to do.
As men we just don’t seem to be able to make the time for this, as there are few things in life a man will do more than shave. Everyday I fix boiling water for my shave I have a soap mug and a beautiful badger hair brush, I make lather and then sharpen my strait razor before shaving. It does take a little time, but it’s a little “me” time in a day that will be spent giving everyone else my attention.

 
 

So… It’s been a while…


I know it’s been a while since I posted something, but I’m not just gonna write garbage to fill a page with nothing, and contrary to Lewis Black, I’m a writer, I may not do it everyday, I may not have finished my book yet, but I have something to say and some things I need to share. I may never be a good writer, hell I’m probably a really bad one.
I haven’t written lately because of a few things that have taken place recently, and in many ways it might be petty, but I feel wounded by the whole experience. Some people have seen it fit to spread some rumours and lies about me and my character, now obviously I’m not going to mention who and what, as that not the kind of person I am, and Karmically you swing on your own pendulum. So whats is this all about? Well it’s about your actions or lack of action, what you say and when you say it, and the fact that you don’t speak up when you should. The fact that all stories have three sides, theirs, yours and a version called “the truth” nestled somewhere in-between. I’m no sinless wonder, the last who tried that got hung up in a gruesome way, and that seemed to put paid to anyone having those notions of grandeur for a good two thousand years, but I have tried to do the best I can, to be as good as I can be, and only ever walked away when I believed I could no longer contribute, and probably the most damning of things never made how I felt very clear, so as to keep everyone else happy. So what? bid deal… get on with it…!
I will get on with it, “THINK” before anything else…. think, what you do, or don’t do, say or don’t say, react, or just plain let things slip, think, because those things may just have very long fingers reaching out into others lives, others hearts, and the damage you do is irreparable.
Remember “THINK” because if you believe this might pertain to you… “THINK” and ask yourself why? because it probably does in some way or another to all of us, and you can never make amends.
Enough about that though.

Here is some new work I have been doing.
First up is Nicci, this is a cover-up and about 9 hours into it.

Here is Pippa, you will recognize her from “the Verge” on TV, the first shot is by Tim Hulme
and the two below are newly completed for her.

This next piece is Sek’s, Pippa’s husband and supercool dude

I then did a piece each for a coupe Jason and Kerri, very nice folks and was awesome spending time tattooing them, fellow Boston Terrier lovers, so they got to be cool.

And I finished Natasha’s Zombie, Tomaz’s “Descent into Hell” and the fabulous Mandy MissHapp’s “Zombie Rosebud”

I also did this cool foot piece for Jerusha

 
 

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