Gloomy Inks

Here is a repost from LST on Coleman. Cheers! Norfolk tattoo artist and his apprentice still inspire | HamptonRoads.com | PilotOnline.com

Its posts like this that keep me coming back to LST. Great information and fun to read too. I'm sucker for history and machine design, so this had it all.

Hey, I'm not knocking those who dig the chanting mind you. Just not my speed. I have a few friends who get into the more "inner" self thing. Me, I just put the bone in my nose and get to work. Of course, I like Dos, and that's just two basses... OK, I'll go find some chanting.

Really? You gotta let me know how that works out. Personally, when I'm getting worked on, I kinda like my old punk. American punk.

Now that is a new picture on me! Thanks so much. It's really too bad about the culture back then. I would to see more of her flash. Outside of a few closeups, there isn't much. Of course there is always her husband, Tommy Lee. Yeah, no relation... Also, when speaking of "Old Has-Beens" on her sign... do you think she was talking about Wagner?

"The grand prize is (drum roll); hassles, nonsense, arguments, a possible early death, and anonymous life punctuated by some artistic pleasure. If you're lucky." What a great life, yeah? You bet it is, and I would trade it for nothing. Meaning if I could, I dunno, teach history in college, like I wanted to before I found out that anything past a needle grouping is beyond my math skills, I would. I love it, don't get me wrong. My station in life is what it should be. A, so far, known, and so-so to OK tattoo guy. Do I deserve this place in time, space, and perhaps history? Sure. Was I selected by the ghost of Phil Sparrow to do so? Hell no! You know what I'm entitled to? This blog, which no one reads (Hint. HINT! A hem...) and that, my few readers (A HEM...!) is about it. I'm glad that are people out there though, who expect to be lauded, for whatever reason. "I've payed my fuckin' dues. I'm deserve..." To shut up. So sorry that your road to tattooing sucked. As to being the best, biggest, baddest... please, just stop. My theory comes from the Bogart version of the Maltese Falcon: "The cheaper the thug, the gaudier the patter." "Cheap? My shop grosses..." No, not cheap like that. Cheap like, "Do we really need..." Yes. WE do. I was one once. What ever "one" was/is.

So. I got this tattoo shop in East Africa. When I'm not busy poaching... That will be $850 in inflated Liberian dollars...

Myth? Um... isn't what we do based on myth? "You can't tattoo over moles." "Connected arm bands will mess up your Chi." "Tattoos in the palms won't hold." While I understand that I might be a little late jumping here, one can't really expect say "Joe Four Pack" to know about what makes a good tattoo. What makes a good tattoo here in the USA does not apply in Singapore. And my idea and yours could be different. There is a fine line here, but that line separates artist and client. Anyone can tattoo, and plenty of people (myself included) have no fine arts back ground outside of sleeping through high school drawing. But I do have an eye for tattoos. As for shady people in tattooing. Ain't we all? I would love to see an advance in art, the tech aspect of tattooing, but stopping with education is selling people short, on both sides of needle. If one were to go there, you'd have to get into motivation on either side. Why do you tattoo? That's a tough one. It's easier to understand why people get them. And where does the happiness of the client end and happiness of the artist begin? I don't dig doing "Hatchetman" tattoos. But I like money. The person with the Hatchetman man may not even know who Van Gough is, let alone care. The next level and up is fine. No argument from me there. When it all comes down to it, this is the only 'mersh art that really sells. I can paint all day and still be broke. Or I can throw on a few silly ones in a day, to me anyway, and walk out with money for cigs. We don't exist in a vacuum. Your lights are not on by grace. It because you have people come in and sit. I really see it sorta like Burger King. In a column for Skin and Ink, Zeke Owen said that he was talking with NKC, and he said that he didn't care what happened to the tattoo. If they washed in soap or jet fuel. Once they left the shop it was done. Over. And if you want a touch up and you jacked it up... well, you all do charge for that kind of mistake, yes? Maybe deVita has it right. It's folk art, all of the art out there, as it's done by people. I know a guy who won't take a drawing and just lay it on a person. He likes to rework it. A good tattoo guy or girl can throw in that little something extra to anything. Make them smile. "I won't," Marginalizes. "I can't," Should really be followed with, "Yet." "I'll do my very best," Keeps them coming in. I'm not entitled to anything. Except my opinion. I don't get mad when someone goes to another artist. I don't care because there is a Hell of a lot of room left in the world. People are always going to get tattooed. Just how it is. "You want that wolf facing out? OK, you got it." Education is fine. Rules (you know except for BBP, consent forms, ETC, nach) are for sheep. You are not prepared for someone throwing up on you while you're working on them at art school. No where have I ever taken a painting class that has a unit on haggling. Most figure drawing classes do not come with a sheaf of paperwork to fill out. No license is needed to sculpt. The myth here is that we're special. No, go back twenty five, fifty, and hundred years, and we, all of us, were lower then poo. If we all wound up murdered in 1914, the whole lot of us, it never would have even made the front page.

OK, I take what I said back. I'm with you, even if "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" is the Tiny Tim version. I gotta say though, if you can take Disney, and great musicals of any era, I would assume you are a hard man. I would have to find a large building and jump. Great, now I have Rogers and Hammerstein stuck in my mind. All those years of riding along with my Grandmother listening to "South Pacific" come flooding back... Not at all as fond as you'd think. Get some Wild Man Fischer. If he goes for the gut that way, go for the throat. You'll win. Trust me.

So. In 24 hrs I met two people who have claimed to met Eddie Funk. I have not, and after writing this title, I think it might be a good idea if I don't. I was out drinking, not my usual these days (I also ended up playing guitar, so I would assume that I was at least two sheets to the wind) and I get to talking. I'm chatty anyways, and this lady comes after I'm done making a jackass of myself with six strings. We get to talking, her, my lady and myself. "I know Eddie Funk," Says she, "His shop was filthy!" Well OK... I did not go into urination as form of replenishing ink. But I did have vodka and pineapple juice. Quite a few. More than a few. This week has been a bunch of firsts, including meeting my ladies Mom and her Mom's guy. And yes, it was the next day, so I feeling and looking just like one might think. A bag of ass with a face. Oh no, no nerves or anything. I'd much rather have to tattoo ______________________ (insert intimidating name here). I sit down, and we all talked for a bit. "I'm from Philly," The guy tells me. "Do ya know Crazy Eddie?" I ask, and I was still hung over from the night before, so this is just as flippant as it reads. "Oh yeah," He says, "I know Eddie. You can't live there and not know Eddie." I'm pro Eddie Funk. I would suggest the highest office for the man. Crazy Eddie - Bowery Stan 2016 [/img]

I think that was a hiku...

That's a good point you have there. But then it begs the question; "So I was looking for a shore leave tattoo and the place was booked up for eight months. What do I do?" Whaddya think?

As a derma... derm... Oh heck, drill the acne away!

I was sitting drawing roses one day. Actually it was a good lesson in trusting the artistic eye too. I was sitting there with a 4B in my hand, this blank look on face, which ain't normal for me unless I'm thinking, and I closed my eyes. I didn't have an apocalyptic vision, but I'm a fan of Chris Rock, and much like his "old guy in the club" bit, I saw myself at 60 (now granted, if you saw how I lived, smoked, and ate, you'd go, "Gloomy, you ain't gonna make it past 40."), bitterly bitching, covered in big think lines and shading with no color left. Burned out but still there. I put the pencil down and sat there. I really love to tattoo, and this thought kinda freaked me out. "Man, how do you keep from burning out? Stay off the drugs, the booze?" I asked the master. He stopped drawing hisself. "I watch TV or go the movies. Sometimes by myself," He said, and went back to drawing sad looking new school things. I do nothing. I draw, write, and on occasion I run out of paper or India ink pens and I go out, but on the whole I'm inside most of the time. If I were a nun you could call it cloister. I swear too much though. In fact I was inside so much that when dragged to the beach last, while I did put sunscreen on my tattoos, I didn't on the rest of me and ended up with second degree burns. As a former musician I have mixed feelings about the public. I like them, and now I tattoo them, but if I'm out too long, or I get too much of the prevailing wind in my ears, I start to get sorta pissy. Call it what you will. Pique. Or that I don't like people. Or myself. So the night I asked the question I ended up at the movies and it was all I could do not to throw pop corn at the screen, and I don't even remember what it was it was so forgettable. I did jeer the film though, a 'la mst3K, and had a small audience waiting for my next wise cracker. (Remember that show with the selfish robots? Dr. Forrester? Joel? Mike? Great, now I'm showing my age and geek again. My fly is up though! So you're spared that, although I bet now you're thinking about it, huh?) (Sick-O.) In the book form of Stoney Knows How, he said that Paul Rodgers was a great guy, but he had a "small mind". I couldn't reason through it. Rodgers? The guy who worked with Coleman? The king daddy machine builder? THE PAUL RODGERS??? STONEY! SAY IT AIN'T SO!!! It took me while to realize what the former sword swallowing carny was trying to say, and I had to look up Rodgers on the 'tube and see him talk, see him deal with other aspiring machine builders and show off his tattoos before I got it. Rodgers smiled. If you see a picture and see him work he's all dead serious business. But the rest of the time he grinning, and has a "gosh golly, gee wiz" look on his face. The man loved his job, people, and had a sense of duty, no, a passion for helping people be better. I think the guy might just have been a mortal muse. Think about it. You couldn't just jump online and find a Paul Rodgers machine. Yes, I know he'd dead and it was pre dijital, but he never was a big supply house. You had to know him. Sure, you had to show respect, but when you did you got it too. As it should be. (The tattoo dude or chick these days has a warped sense of that. I blame TV. OH MAN! I sound like my Grandfather! "You buncha young punks, with your ABBA and your Pet Rocks!") Mike Malone had to convince him that people wanted and needed these flesh etching devices, and I'm sure Rodgers thought about it quietly, smiled big and said, "Well, OK." Where is your smile? I'm still finding mine, and it isn't the easiest thing to do. In fact it's much easier to be a grump. I'm grappling with it like portrait work. I do like history, so I try to find the old guys that no one remembers and bring them to life again, if only in word or an old photo. If I can I try to write or call if they are still around. Sad part is that I'm past the time of many I admire. My idea of great tattooing, the kind I want from the guys, with a few exceptions, stops in around 1978. To answer the question of why it's a little past 5AM and I'm still up? I am, sadly, relentless, even in doing nothing. Or almost nothing. I can pull off a nap for ten or twelve hours. I can sit down and go into myself, but I can never shut off my mind. So I find that when I can't sleep, averaging around four to five hours a night these days, I try to do something so I'm not bummed out about it. So there you go. Just keeping busy, plodding along. And that makes me smile.

Jack's lady got tattooing shut down in New London. When it opened back up a shop opened between the police and fire departments. The guy who ran it, who's name escapes me in the early morning hours, sold out to the guy who trained me. Funny how these things turn out...

OK, well this is my first shot at a thread here, so I figure I'd go for something crazy that has my OCD in overdrive. I'm sure most of you have seen the Sailor Jerry documentary. If not, to spite the car seat covers and shirts, please do. In the out takes, Mr. Owen (I do use the "Mr." quite a bit, simply out of respect) talks about C. J. "Danny" Danzl and his laying a shader down in the gutter where the ladies of the night in the house above his old Colorado Springs shop (pre WW2) dumped their "rinse pots". He took them out after a week and retouched the black fish scales that adorned his right arm. Mr. Owen was laughing about what Danzl said to him, "You see anything wrong with me?" He was also a heck of a cook, making food during WW2 in the Merchant Marine (my Grandfather, now 91, was MM in the war as well), as well being cook (or in other stories captain) of the tugboat Danny Pazu. Oddly my Grandfather was a tugboat skipper as well. Funny how these things go. He also worked with ABC Hank in Seattle for a while. Owen said they were "Quite a pair." It put the hook in me, and a year or so ago I got started on some research on Danzl. I was planning just writing a blog post, but the more I've obsessed, the more I think it may become more. Not that I'm not busy with other things, both writing, tattooing, machine building (such as my machine "building" is), and working on getting a good friend broken in as well. I spoke with Mr. G (Triangle Tattoo & Museum), Mr. Eldridge (Tattoo Archive), Madam Vyvyn Lazonga (madame-lazonga-), who learned from Danzl personally, and as well Mr. Lyle Tuttle. (Tuttle actually gave me the lead to Madam Lazonga and is a heck of a nice guy who I'd like to buy a drink or 14 for sometime) I have yet to contact Mr. P. A. Stevens, but that will be coming as soon as I can get around to an hour or so. Mr. Tuttle didn't have time to help me, although he has a ton 'o Danzl ephemera, including machines and flash. He's a busy man, and I respect that. Madam Lazonga said she didn't know too much about Danzl, however I did read that he and Sailor Jerry were good friends, respected each other, and wrote one another on occasion. Mr. Eldridge, who is a wealth of knowledge and provided me with some sound advice that I didn't take for granted at all, told me a few things. One Danzl was forced to put up a "no spitting" sign for one. Two, Danzl had a laryngectomy due to throat cancer and used a "buzzer" (funny how it all comes down to things that buzz, huh?) to talk, but it never stopped him from talking. Also when he visited conventions, he always had great shirts, wild designs, wore colored, lacquered Panama hats, and an ascot to cover the surgery. I also found out that when Madam Lazonga left the Seattle Tattoo Emporium the social section of the local paper put a head line: Danzl in Distress. He also suggest that I contact the NTA, and if I wanted to write a piece with cred, I needed to contact Mr. Stevens. That was invaluable advice that a younger me probably would have scoffed at. I thank my stars I'm older, more respectful, but sadly still a dope. Mr. G was the best out of all. Funny, no big 'tude, and we had a great conversation that somehow got around to what the "old school" really means. That was a big thing for me too and it's very simple: you give respect and get it back. From Mr. G, who along with Madam Chinchila, visited Danzl's I got a great big hunk of facts. Danzl had learned from Percy Waters in Detroit, MI. He was a side show tattooer for a while, as well as being "Aqua Boy", hence the fish scales. Sort of pre Weeki Watchee Springs for you all in the know. He also told Mr. G never to use the term "gun", but was a gentleman about it. He wore elaborately decorated shirts, done with an ink tube with a ball point pen tip on it, the same that Mr. G used to mark his "senior 'cords" when he was in high school. Danzl told him never to tattoo a face, nor hands, as faces distract and hands, well, people never took proper care of them. Again, another touch of the "old school". Danny was also quite the ladies man, and would bring roses or corsages for the ladies who attended the National Convention. He also had a tank full of red bellied piranha with a sign that read, "Tattoo Removal" over the tank. He also once met Tom Waits at the lunch counter he ate at on the Pike. To the best of Mr. G's knowledge C. J. "Danny" Danzl passed away in 1989. So, that was rather long winded, if writing can be. Any one have any more information? Flash? A machine? Or even a tattoo? Any thing would be most helpful, and I'd thank you in advance, not that I wouldn't do it after either, on him? Please let me know, and I hope you all have enjoyed what I've picked up along the way so far. One last thing. I tried to get a hold of Sailor Cam Cook on the phone, but the listing for his shop was a dead end. Is he still working? If so, does anyone know how I can reach him? Again, many thanks, and I'm sure you'll read more blather from me somewhere around the ways. BONUS!!! Here is Danzl outside his Colorado Springs shop in the '30s or very early '40s. Note the Waters tattooing sign, and also "beer" in the upper left hand corner. Ah, the good 'ol days. http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/originals/b0/f3/49/b0f34935df01ee8adb5f5904cd9af024.jpg Danzl working on his wife, possibly staged? Photo reversed. He wasn't no southpaw! http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/8f/3a/6e/8f3a6e0aae008f496a369565add3d766.jpg Greg Irons, Danzl, and P. A. Stevens, maybe late '70s or early '80s. See why I don't work for Kodak? I can't tell you from film stock! Big thanks to Mr. Eldridge for this. http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/b1/62/3a/b1623a26115a2866923f4be1c9911fbc.jpg A machine made by Danzl, given as a gift to Tennesse Dave James (RIP) http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/originals/a9/3f/8a/a93f8a24b075ad7bb5947ca2169d76db.jpg Danzl's road outfit, maybe from his carny days. Note again the Waters influence; "That's Me!" Also, there is a first aid kit in there too if you look close. Now that is weird. http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/3f/0a/20/3f0a20b2c169f7d0e13fa6226c941633.jpg Possible Danzl flash http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/originals/44/ae/ba/44aeba7958534e243bf73053124030ac.jpg *For the full story on Danzl and health, here ya go, as only Mr. Zeke could tell it! From Baxter's Tattoo Blog. http://tattooroadtrip.com/blog/the-legendary-zeke-owen/

I'm so darned pedantic. I'm working on three books at once, as it's the only way I can make sure it all fits together in my tiny little bean. The first is a tale of tattooing, murder, revenge, redemption, and loss, set in the month before WW2... As to the rest... you'll have to wait, but I'll tell you this, all the tattoo men and women are based in fact. I say based because I don't want to offend...

NO WAY! And I may do something weird like them to Catholic school too. I'm not kidding either. I wouldn't put it past me.

One of the craziest people I've ever known is now a pilot. I never liked flying and am now deathly afraid that he'll see me, and start doing barrel rolls... Actually I'm just scared to fly. Worst I ever had when traveling was this one time I went to Lookout Mt. in Georgia. Just so happens there was a holy roller in there (not that I care what you believe, just don't mind me) while I was getting a beer. "And the beast will come!" He yelling to a the nodding counter lady, "And they will bear the mark of the beast!" Heads turn and look at me. "Well," I said, "As long as the ink looks good to me, I'm game." I gave 'em the 'ol horn hand and bopped out of the place with my 40.

One method, which I read in a piece with Bowery Stan, was silver nitrate and Tannic acid. I have also heard of spirits of wine (?) and pigeon dung, which would be alcohol and a base. Stoney's method, however ineffective, is very healthy. Good for your eyes too!

My first client that I know of passed away a few months back from rectal cancer. I worked on a Strat neck coming out of his upper left arm. I asked him while I was working on him how he felt about his mortality (he was terminal). He told me that he tried to live each day to the fullest, and inspire others to do the same. I look like a big tough tattooed guy. I had to put the machine down and go wipe the tears from eyes. It's art to be sure, but with a shelf life. People, their lives and stories keep me from burning out. But when I got the call, my heart went up into my throat, and went and had another cry. I'd say RIP Scott, but I know you are already.

I'm always shocked when I see a guy tattoo left handed. Not that I'm right handed I just like to shock myself. That out of the way I never have had a "left handed" machine, although I have seen a pic of left handed Waters, with Wagner's name stamped on it. So that goes way back. I don't know the answer to this really. I'm sure it personal preference. I just lay the a little more over the side of my hand. Of course I've also had people tell that I'm left handed, and therefor I cannot tattoo. I love that rumor. Makes me wonder if it goes back to "sinister", a word that's Latin root means, "From the left"?

This caused a huge crack down here in Florida. I've seen this a few times, and while I do not condone such things, I know that George Burchett, the late eminent tattoo master from the UK at one point tattooed Pop Eye on his son's arm. It was during the blitz and his rational was that if the family got split up during a raid, it would be easy to find his son. "Excuse me, but have you seen a eight year old boy with a Pop Eye tattoo?" I think however this mother might have done well to just leash up her kid... like a dog.

Mike Malone was a licensed barber as well. There was a place here in town doing just that, tattoos and hair cuts. I like it myself, a real throw back. Get a shoe shine stand and you might have the market cornered.