Turning over a new forest.....

The last year was not a friend to productivity.....in fact it has pretty much been an off the rails, in a ditch, belly up train wreck.....but that's life for you.

Now that, with fingers crossed and a knock on the nearest timber, the worst is over - it is time to get back on track, to continue the train metaphor....and that means kicking out all thoughts of back-up plans and embrace the sink or swim approach to art.....

So daily updates and works in progress will be the norm......

Welcome to MY LIFE 2.0

Change is good......Right????

Strange days indeed....March madness maybe? Sparkey has landed in Australia, and here in about 5 days....My seven year old will become my eight year old on Saturday....and my four year old turns five ten days later.....oh it it looks like my marriage of over 10 years is over....i think that last one might take a while to process.

I wasn't going to be personal blurt guy in a blog, but to be honest not sure who else to tell. Oh and a stack of new tattoo gear arrived this week (deftly done change of topic). Found a undiscovered talent, or at least not discovered enough to be charging big $$$ yet talent. Guy in China making very nice hand made tattoo guns, I may have gone a little crazy but as soon as i got one of his tattoo guns i realized what a good gun was....brass and hand made, v.sexy :) other boxes contain everything else, inks, fancy power supplies and other scary fun stuff.

I am pretty much stocked and good to go, i just need a big tub of Vaseline and some Detol (as the actress said to the Bishop).

Busy days ahead.....never been so sad and so motivated.....

Where's the bit in the middle?.....

The bit in the middle was overtaken by that pesky time eater, life.....So i will fill it in later and keep going with present day recollections, which are more reliable anyway.

A week from today Sparkey will arrive at my house.....all the way from Northern Ireland. This of course will result in a blog filled with interesting photo's of tattooing and me trying to get him killed by Australian wildlife. It is a tradition, or old charter or something. Come to Australia, you might accidentally get killed, as the song says.

Can Someone pass me a Babel Fish?....

'De ya hav en trouble unerstandin uz?'.....See my Irish accent is pants. Sparkeys Dad asked me if I had any trouble understanding them....Well no not really....I mean the odd word threw me...but it wasn't like I was having to much trouble understanding them, well no more than they had understanding each other. That was an observation I had made on the train from Belfast to Ballymoney the day before. I sat looking out the window of the train, I was seated across from a father and son, engaged in a loud discussion about something, football possibly, I wasn't really paying attention to the topic. What fascinated me were the constant requests to repeat what was just said, at least I assume that's what 'Wa'!??? accompanied by a quizzical look means. This conversation took most of the journey to complete, but i am not sure how much information was exchanged, I got to the point where I almost offered to translate for them. I decided not to, as that kind of thing spoils the anthropological moment, changing me from being an observer, into a tourist getting a right kicking.

Meet the Parents......

I have a rather strained relationship with my own parents, this makes me rather uncomfortable around other peoples parents. The fact that I had received the same warning for parents I was about to mmet, as i had for the pets wasn't helping. "Careful they can be a bit tricky around strangers" and this time I would not have the assistance of my animal whisperer skills to bail me out. "Around Strangers".....well then, a guy I met on Internet, who has traveled from Australia to stay in our house, must qualify at least as a 9 on the Stranger rating system. I need not of worried, I don't know if it was my rougish antipodean charm (unlikely) or the inate hospitality of Northern Ireland, but I have rarely felt more at home.

Beware of the Dog!!!!......

I am not a pet person....let me just say that now. I don't hate animals, believe me growing up on a farm you can't hate them,...but it also doesn't pay to get too attached to something that maybe on your dinner plate next week. So not a animal person, shame animals never seem to understand that about me.



"Just be careful of the dog, she is a bit tricky round strangers!" or something to that effect....in fact it is always something like that. And of course 30 seconds later I have a new hairy friend treating me like a long lost relative....If only this talent for gaining animal confidence could be transferred to something useful, such as attracting young women or picking winning race horses....but alas I must sit at the kitchen table, with only a big friendly puppy's wet nose poking me in the lap....

Stranger in a Land....

I stepped off the train into the balmy Northern Irish weather, let me say that again, balmy! Sunshine and warm weather just like the don't have in the travel guides, but more about the weather later. Waiting at the platform is either the person who is going to tell me about tattooing, or the serial killer that has had me travel half way across the planet to stuff me in the boot and bury my dismembered corpse in a peat-bog. Let's call him Sparkey. In fact he says "Call me Sparkey!" whenever I attempt to call him anything else. Hands are shaken, luggage is stowed in the boot (blood stain free, as far as I can see).

I always worry about first meetings, it is often hard to see which way things will go, but he is both relaxed and nervous as I am. Talk of trips, weather and all the normal ice-breakers are employed by both parties, but the the tipping point comes surprising early in the trip. Now a tipping point as the name implies can go either way, it can roll the situation back to uncomfortable silence, or as it did in this case it call hurtle off the other side with a nice long drop that breaks the ice. This tipping point was an ice-breaker....

SPARKEY - You see her!
ME - Who?
SPARKEY - The red haired girl, crossing the road!
ME - Yes.
SPARKEY - That's Her!!!
ME - Who?
SPARKEY - That's the Irish Red Haired Girl!!
Me - Sorry?
SPARKEY - The Irish Red Haired Girl!! There's only one! She just travels around all of Ireland, for the tourists to see!!

Like I said, tipping points...you can't make them happen....but when they tip the right way you suddenly know everthing is going to be fine...

More Trains....

Once again I am on a train .....the train for Ballymoney....I doubt they will write a song....

52 mins in Belfast....

Well I can't really say I have been to Belfast, now can I? The Train Station didn't even sell  fridge magnets or snow globes!!! Another city to add to my list of places I will have to spend more time in, next time. A connecting train in less than an hour, time for a coffee and that was it. I was getting tired, the non-stop travelling on the back of a 24 hour flight was catching up with me now. Coffee done...Quick Cigarette...and back on the move...sigh..

Back on Track....

I love a train journey it is the best way to see the countryside, with out any exertion on your own part, and the best way to think. Leaving Dublin by train was one of those mixed emotion things. I knew I hadn't enjoyed it much, but I was also fully aware that I would feel the same of any place if I only stayed in the tourist strip, and god knows my least favourite place on earth is the Gold Coast in Queensland. Hell on Earth and not in a good way, but the countryside that surrounds it is amazing. So I will give Dublin the benefit of the doubt, and next time I come back I will see it properly.

The train worked it's magic though. The countryside slowly passing, gave me time to think, and sketch, and drink some coffee that tasted like it may have already been passed through several other passengers....but I was feeling better, and the further into the countryside I went, the better I felt. Then I saw a peat bog, and it made me happy....I have had the word peat bog in my head since the first year of high school, those seemingly pointless projects they keep you busy with...the only one that every really stuck was "The Peat Bog Man"...murdered and tossed in a bog and nicely preserved so generations of school children could mock his shriveled genitalia....fame is a fickle mistress my friends...but what I remember from that project, was the shrunken mans Tattoo's....proper tribal...for someone in a proper tribe. So I continued the trip with a smile and a bit more confidence, I liked the coincidence...hell i love a coincidence...I like the idea of fate and circle of life and all that crap...not enough to buy a crystal and a tie die t-shirt...but I appreciate the little pointers along the way....My first ever view of a peat bog was a great big pointy pointer....Hakuna Matata Bog Man!!!