Friday, 31 January 2014

Just a little news

Ok so a lot has been said over the past few days about the whole “mishaps” bullshit, and frankly besides expressing my disappointment with Pricked in SA, I really haven’t bothered with it all, but as it was brought to my attention that she has deemed it necessary to speak about the situation which of course was as expected completely one sided and filled with half truths. I guess I should set things straight as I see them. There are 4 sides to this story, mine, hers, her cronies, and the truth, and which ever side of the fence you sit on, you will I’m sure be voiding your gracious opinions on the subject, but giving credit where credit is due, seems like a simple thing to do, as it wasn’t, that says more about others than it does me, so with all this, I am now from my side putting an end to it. I have expressed to Chris what I feel and how I will deal with it. As for Mandy, Murray, mishap and all those people that took her side in this matter, rest assured I will not lose one ounce of sleep over this, this note is all the space in my life you will ever get.

To those that appreciate my work and that coming out of The Cape Town Tattoo Social Club, I make you the promise that I made the day I started tattooing, and that is that I will do the very best of my abilities at all times, and will ensure that, that will be what comes out of the studio. Without the love and respect of our clients, we would not exist, so to each and every one of our clients, Thank you! Thank you very much, I hope we will see you all soon.

While I’m posting, I may as well also let you guys know that The Cape Town Tattoo Social Club, will not be attending the Cape Town tattoo convention, we will be putting the money this would have eaten up into bringing top internationals to Cape Town for extended periods all year round, so that our clients have enough time to actually get tattooed by them. We have just hosted Olo Vog from Cologne, and on Tuesday Alisa King arrives from California for a month. We are currently talking to some other amazing artist who are anxious to come visit, and as soon as we have decided on the dates we will let you know who will be with us and when, once again, thank you all for making this possible and for your ongoing support.


Friday, 24 January 2014


“Ours is an era of constant distraction, a punishing drumbeat of constant input, this cacophony that follows us into our homes, into our bed, seeps into our…into our souls, everything out there has gotten so… so amplified” Sherlock from episode 7, season 2. It rings so true for me, and the reason I bring it up or shall I say cause, is the tirade that spewed from my mouth at my phone, when after a day of work, my phone also had to insist on attention by telling me it needed charging. It’s all so damn noisy this life we lead, and it’s not that we can even choose to ignore it because it insists that you constantly listen and attend to it, take the phone for instance, ok I am my own worst enemy here, I did choose the fancy thing, and for that I am truly sorry, but do you absolutely need to know about every social media titbit, or exactly when it deems it necessary to be recharged, or when you are out of wifi range, and I know you can turn it off, that’s not the point. This constant barrage comes at us all day long from every angle and just never lets up, people hooting in cars, truck exhaust brakes, motorcycles screaming by, then the talking on the TV the radio, ads, promotions, billboards, spam, fuel gauge flashing, electronic buzzer to open the gates the need for people to talk overly loud on their cell phones… and it just goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on until I feel like my head sometimes just wants to explode, perhaps this is why Yoga has become so popular who knows. I just know that I need some quiet, sometimes I just need real quiet, turn the phone off, let no one near me, and sit in a darkened room and just find some solitude, some peace, if my over stimulated brain will allow, because that’s not as easy as it sounds, just because your senses have been sealed off from the noise, doesn’t mean your brain stops processing them, like some junky with a really bad habit. And that’s the crux of all this, we constantly talk of bad habit, he smokes, bad habit, she drinks, bad habit, but what about these bad habits we are forming by allowing all this noise to permeate into our lives… our very souls, aren’t those bad habits hastening the demise of our creative abilities, our compassion, the very core of real human experience.

Perhaps the human experience is changing, evolving and perhaps all those things mentioned are becoming extinct like the wildlife on our planet, superfluous to that drum beat, like your little toe, gradually getting smaller till one day we are jelly masses, supported in slings, without need for any thought, just being fed noise and sustenance to keep us occupied.

Friday, 17 January 2014

Anti Social Media....????

Love or hate social media, that’s completely up to you, but today and it’s early in the day so that’s not good, but here is my line in the sand. I am not going to go on about opinions and assholes again I have said it way to often, so here is my brain fart. I use social media to promote myself, and my studio, I don’t have a shop front, street studio, I have chosen another path and that is to build the kind of space I want to be in all the time, and then share that with my clients. So we work on an appointment based routine, which gives each artist time to spend with there client and design custom pieces for them. There are many pros and cons to this as you can well imagine, but the single most important thing is getting the message out there and as any small business will tell you this isn’t always easy. Client word of mouth has been our greatest allies, but social media has really catapulted this idea of mine and made it a viable venture.

Every morning I get up and “check the wires” my little old fashioned term for checking e-mails and social networks, but this morning I was just lambasted with stupid shit, seriously if you hate the social networks so much, do us all a favour and get the fuck off them. If you feel the need to tell the world to get constantly fucked by showing your middle finger, please, another favour, go get some help, you obviously have issues, but please stop putting them in our faces.

Remember this is social media, not anti-social media and if you have something hateful or nasty to say, you should have the courage to say it to their faces, same with being overly forward and sexual innuendo. It has become easy to sit behind a computer and lash out with garbage without consequence, in a proper social setting you wouldn’t behave this way, and if you did, you probably get a beating, or those men with those nice white jackets with the sleeves that tie behind your back come fetch you. I understand that people get bored, and look for distraction, or feel like the remoteness of a computer gives them the courage they normally lack, but think about the quality of what you put out there, it speaks volumes about you

These are some cover up pieces I did this week

Thank you to Bianca, Juley and Malissa for allowing me the opportunity to do these pieces.

Wednesday, 15 January 2014

The Wolf

This is a story about a wolf, a beautiful black and grey timber wolf, young and lithe, nothing noble, just scrapping for his meat in the pack. Having left his clan he needed to find his own place in the world, a contest with the alpha male had defeated the old male, but the sight and the look in the old man’s eyes had turned his ferocious heart and with that he left, it was time to walk the path alone.

He wandered the forests, constantly wary of the encroach of man, steering clear of them, he hunted alone, times were more and more often lean, and from time to time he would drift closer to the encampments, scrounging and scavenging scraps. There were times when there were great finds, a chicken left unwatched, a pie left to cool and he would sneak in, and take off without anyone knowing better, well until dinner time of course. Then times would be really bad and he would pick through leftovers, running a lot of risk at being caught, or worse, shot.

Time passed and being alone was good, but hunting alone without a pack made it hard going, and no matter how much time and hard work he put into the hunt, he was often left hungry. He sometimes yearned for company, as is the nature in a most wolves, but being a lone wolf he knew this was not to be his life choice, but still, now and then he felt loneliness tug at his heart, and with this he would once again get in earshot of man and just listen, and it appeased the little hole.
One day while roaming and hunting he heard sounds that he had never heard before, in curious trepidation, he got closer and closer to the noise. It brought him closer and closer to the river’s steep embankment, still the sounds persisted, he could not see anything, but then the smell came, and he knew, it was man. Cautiously he got to the edge to find a man, hanging from fingertips, clawing at rock to keep himself from falling, yelling and pleading. The wolf turned and as he was about to leave, he found he could not, so he returned and laying flat to the ground he edged closer to the lip, and biting hard into the leather of mans sleeve he got a good hold. He then began to push with his hind quarters, slowly, inch by in until the man started to move, then in strong jerking motions lifting the man higher and higher up, and over the edge to safety. Elated he spun and leaped into the air but was suddenly struck with a rock, to his surprise the man began stoning him, and he fled, feeling confused, hurt by the stones, but much more by man’s reaction. It took every ounce of faith in his own nature not to return and retaliate and kill the man and feed from his corpse. Instead the wolf shadowed the man, making sure he got back to the encampment safe and sound, and getting close as he dared he lay hidden and watched, watched as man recovered, and slowly ventured out again.

As the man would often go out into the forest for firewood, or hunt, the wolf, always out of the man's sight followed, watching, learning, trying to understand.
It was several months later.  Man was out hunting, and in his carelessness wounded a wild pig, out here wild pigs are huge, even a wolf pack will be sure to have him good and exhausted before closing in, and even then, speed is of the essence, but man was noisy and slow and gave off all these floral smells and the pig turned and chased him down, and had him cornered, the wolf without a thought to his own safety tore in and locked in battle, the pig was taken by surprise by the attack and the strength and agility of the lone wolf and was no match.
At this man was stunned, he recognised the wolf, and recognised it had been the second time he had been saved by the lone wolf, as he fell to the ground the wolf lay next to him and they slept. When man awoke the wolf was awake but now stood at a safe distance. Man then spoke to the wolf, told him that from then on, they had a pact that he would take care of him from then on, that they were bonded together like no other. The man told the wolf to come live in his compound, where he would be fed and kept and safe, he would build him a kennel where he would be safe and where he would be protected from all the other men, together they would make a formidable team, where they could hunt and gather and live well. The wolf was unsure, he had been hurt badly by the man before, but he relented, and it they did become a formidable team, and once while the wolf was sick, the man cared for him and fed him back to health, and the man began to prosper from the friendship. In time though the wolf became ill again, and this time the man admonished the wolf and forced him out into the wilderness to hunt, and slowly the wolf recovered, but he had noticed a change in the man. One night the man returned stumbling in the dark and cursing, he yelled at the wolf and then fell against the wall and slept, from a distance the wolf smelt the man was different, and it made him uneasy. The morning brought the man to his senses and even though in a foul mood the team hunted well, but the night brought the same, and as it went on, the yelling turned to beatings and after a while the wolf realised the kennel was not for his protection but for his imprisonment, and with that his mind was made up, on the following hunt the wolf just kept on going, he fled, never wanting to see man again. For weeks he could hear the man calling for him, crying for him, promising he had changed, but the wolf had been hurt to often, and vowed never to return.

Though he was getting older and a little greyer, the wolf was in great shape, being alone again in the wilderness had made him strong and powerful, and he hunted well, as he rebuild his territory, this had not gone un-noticed, he was first befriended by two weasels, they would follow him around, and to the wolf’s credit, he allowed them to do so, and they dined on, for the wolf would leave for them, but they squabbled amongst each other, as weasels do, but were always together when stealing, or taking more than their share, and this the wolf would not stand for, so with a terrifying growl, had made them understand that they were no longer welcome. In time he met a few more animals, there was the great big wild sow, he at first contemplated eating her, but as she was old, her meat tough and fatty, it barely seemed like much of a challenge, besides, he liked her company. They walked some way together, spending time together but it didn’t take long for the pig to show her true colours and her greed pushed her to challenge the wolf, baring her tusks and charging, but she was no match for the wolf, and in one swift tear, he tore through her throat, she died instantly, it brought him no pleasure and he didn’t even feed from her, just leaving her to the forest floor and critters to feed from her.
He had also met a rat, like all rats he had a lot of friends and the wolf used them to find good prey, they had a huge network and communicated well, leading the wolf to the prey. He hunted well, and fed well, always giving the rats their fair share of the hunt, but the rat was rotten with jealousy, he had a Napoleonic complex that blinded him to the reality of his station. The rat also listened to the bad advise of others, especially an ugly old toad that filled his head with lies.

Disillusioned by the encounters the wolf returned to what had made him happy, being alone, hunting alone. Time passed and he got older, but still had the cunning and prowess of a great wolf, though he was not as strong and fit as he used to be. One day while scavenging through the woods he smelled a familiar smell again, it lingered, but he could not quite remember where it came from.
Days passed and the wolf was once again hunting, this time the smell was stronger he followed it when suddenly he was trapped, a net had sprung and he struggled and fought snarling and biting but to no avail, and now he remembered the smell, man, man was back and he felt afraid again. They put something into him and he slept, fitful, angry dreams, all the encounters and betrayals that had happened, but eventually they subsided and the sleep was deep as death. At first it was just a sound, a drone that kept on an on, and slowly as the wolf awoke he found himself in darkness, unable to move, caged so tightly that even turning was impossible. He’s first reaction was to tear and lash out, but he could not move, he grew more and more afraid, and angry. The droning stopped and all of a sudden blinding light, and that smell, man, why had man done this? But before any answer came they put something in him, and sleep overcame him once more.

The wolf awoke from a wonderful dream of hunting in the wilderness; he had been chasing a dear through a clearing and about to pounce for the kill, when he woke with a jolt, as one often does in a dream. Slowly he began to focus, and lift his head, and the memories of the kennel came flooding back, the wolf was enraged he leapt up and tore at the cage and scratched at it, but nothing, nothing moved, he fought and tried to dig, but nothing. Suddenly one side opened and he took his chance and made for the opening, fleeing the kennel to freedom and the sunlight that poured in from the opening, only to be hit by loud noise and the intense smell of man.  He looked about, and it was a forest, he was elated, he ran as hard as he could, and after a few meters the forest ended, the wolf was baffled, and the noise and smell just grew louder, he turned and took off in the opposite direction into the forest but in a very short time again the forest seemed to go on but didn’t, he turned to the sound of water and ran towards it to find the creak, and then he saw it, the wall, the men, the cage. A large cage, made to look like the forest, but still a cage and man, lots of them, a never-ending stream of them.

As time passed and the wolf grew older, he became accustomed to his new cage, he was well fed, and though he had lost his wilderness, he still had those memories man could never steal, and late at night, when the full moon rose, he would still climb to the highest point and howl, long mournful howls, the kind of howls he knew ate at mans heart, he may be older, grey and less a tooth or two, but the lone wolf was still alive within his heart, and no cage or man could ever take that away.


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