Gloomy Inks

Great stuff, thanks for posting. Here is a little bit on Grimshaw, Cap's neighbor, or enemy. Take your pick. William Grimshaw, Tattooist I tried to find the location of Grimshaw's Charleston shop, 210 King St. I don't recommend the trip. Bad...

"The sky is falling! The sky is falling! And I'm afraid that the bottom will drop out!" Of course we need new blood. I don't know who this "Yoshi" person is mind you (please lift my rock and let me know if I'm missing something here) but the "market" for tattooing has gotten huge since the late '70s. If you have the dream, the talent art wise, and you can stomach it, go full steam. It's not like the cream does not rise to the top anyway. You are NOT going to see interviews or documentary films about me. Ever. And that's cool. I've heard the old saying that everyone needs a place to sit. I've met plenty of used to be artists, or people who say they can tattoo. I've also met many people who have a excuse for why they don't or can't too, and sure some of them are telling the truth. People want into this, and while I understand that apprenticeship is a form of boot camp that some wash out of, the old "yell at them and make 'em by you lunch for a few years" thing may work for some, but to many with some self respect, it just don't fly. If abuse is your thing, by all means, but I don't think that because that's the way it's always been done makes a whole lot of sense. Apprenticeship is a two way street. "Because I am hard you will not like me," Is great for the USMC, but I used to work retail. I know just how pompous and full of BS people can be. So yes, we do, and no, maybe not. People get all flustered that the "boom" will end some day. It will, it's true, but there will always be good artists out there. If people want to buy by price, or go to the lowest scratcher on the face of the globe, let them. As to adding "drama" to another's life? C'mon now!

People tell me I'm crazy all the time. My family, band members, friends, well the few friends I have still. I am crazy too. I'm impulsive, big time, and a little OCD (big O, little c) I think. Whats worse, I don't care if you know I'm crazy. I think crazy is where it's at in fact, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Of course like most crazy people I don't have a plan. Or when I do, it's insane stuff. "Tattoo my hands, yeah," I thought to myself. Finding a place to live can be a little rough sometimes. I think deep down we're all a little crazy, client and artist alike. If you think about it, getting jabbed with a sharp object after paying money for it... it's kinda like BDSM, of course I don't have to put on leather or latex, which is good, because I'm a fat man and my grandmother always gets me cloths for Christmas that wouldn't fit me when I was 6. I think she wants me to look like a sausage in a casing, but I'm not sure, because she's even more out there then I am. I have a track record of madness that makes me a candidate for the funny farm. Over doses, DUIs, all night drives with sweaty, stinky guys in a van that could serve as mobile vomitorium. My ink to say the least is strange. When I was a kid I wanted to be a pirate of all things, and now I feel like maybe I am. At least the ship's tattooer. I come by it honestly. Viking stock with a liberal dose of West Tennessee ex-Confederate, bottom land moonshiner loony. I don't even understand art as it stands, just what makes a good tattoo in my mind. Probably why I like Crazy Eddie Funk so much... In the end when someone says normal to me, in whatever context, I get my back against the wall and start looking for a direction to crab walk in before I get a small knife in the kidneys, liver and lungs, leading me to bleed out into my clothes. This is an opener. You'll find that this madness will prevail on this blog and suggest you come back often and check up on me. My prognosis isn't and it'll just get worse. Thank you for reading and light the the carpet on fire alligators. -Gloomy Gus

I agree, tattoos have changed my life. I was reading this great thing on Jack Dracula (RIP) done from a sociological standpoint. From what I can gather from my family I was born weird. I never bought into Santa or the Easter Bunny, and most of the time had hard time dealing the other kids. Most, not all mind you, people who get tattooed self identify. If you're military it's a delineation from others who wear the same uniform. Back when side shows were still allowed to operate the "self made freaks", the tattooed, were an entity unto themselves, while the "very special people" were the same. If you look to extremes in tattooing, like Dracula or Lucky Diamond Rich, having facial tattoos does set you apart. Where I'm at in Florida we have a ton of shops and a few metric tons of tattooed people. On occasion, rare, I get a strange look from a pious man or priggish woman, but most of the time I get a pretty positive reaction from people. Some still assume that I'm a hood, but you don't get a whole lot of whispering these days, at least I don't. About the most I get it is the "That must hurt!" or the "I'm afraid of needles," but on the whole my tattoos have been pretty positive in my life.

The only people who say, "That guy has waaaaaaay too many machines!" are the people who are envious at the amount of machines others have. If I could have a room full, and a whole room, I would. But not those expensive "I have a bulldog that Sailor Jerry owned!" things. Just good solid runners.

The smiling baby in this picture is Lovetta Wagner, daughter of Gus and Maud Wagner. She never got a tattoo either. Talk about willpower! And Millie Hull's sign...

Paul Rodgers. There, I said it. But Paul Rodgers got his first tattoo on the John Robinson Circus from this man, Mr. Chet Cain. I can't say who did his work, or if it was hand poke or no. Although at least part of it may have been done by Gus Wagner. I'd almost bet my life, but then you'd think about it and see how cheap I am... I can't find anything flash wise from Cain at all, so if any one has a dusty old flash sheet sitting in a cardboard box in the closet of their shop with his name on it, post it please. Oh, Gus Wagner got struck by lightening while working on his roof. Hand of God? That's why I don't do roofing. - - - Updated - - - OH yeah, I forgot. Those shorts are made from a circus curtain. Many tattooers back in the good/bad/disease ridden carny days also were attractions. I've seen the cut down curtains on Ted Hamilton too, so I figure it was pretty common to add just a little more look to your act, even though now a days no one would blink an eye to a full shirt.

I do have a good one! I had just related that morning a story I saw Bowery Stan tell about Charlie Wagner. I guess Wagner was a bit absent minded (I can relate... what was I saying?) and they would tell him he needed to go home and change because he'd have a rip in his pants or some such thing. So this woman comes in and asks for Hebrew on her right inner arm. I have no compunction about working on anyone, regardless, but Jewish law does forbid tattooing. So I set up, she sits down, I plop the stencil on and get to work with 7 liner. I'm a bit of talker, so I ask her, "What does that say?" "I don't remember," Says she, and asks her friend to look it up on her phone. OK, kind of weird, and her friend comes up with the answer. I'm a little messy too, so when I lean over with a little green soap to clean up some Kuro that hit the floor... RIPPPPPPPPPPP! Now, much like the Professor, I have a big friggin' rip in my pants. I'm sure Wagner was up there, dressed in some out dated cloths with a huge jar of quarters next to him, laughing, "I got that little punk!" So I get almost done and I ask her, "Are you Jewish?" "No, I'm Cuban and Catholic." For once in my life I was speechless. No idea what it meant, and not even a cultural reference. I'm still scratching my head. But I may have lice...

Gun. Ug. I got a ruthless stare and never used that one again. It was my first lesson. I was reading a thing with Mike Malone one time and he had an interesting point. Tattoo machine is really a misnomer. It's not really a machine, it a device, in that it really only has one moving part set up on springs, but I digress because when I see a slotted cutback I run away screaming and look for my Dietzel... As to misspelling tattoo? Bollocks! I can't stand it, which why I no longer text. If you use "U" instead of "you" you are a tool, and I don't care about your data plan. But "tat" or "tatts"? That goes way back. Gibbs "Tatts" Thomas got the moniker on the Ringling Bros. show as far back as 1917. He taught Collins and worked with Cliff Raven (by the way, the Cliff Raven wine isn't bad! If a bit over priced for a Malbec...) and had this "I'll kick your ass" look on his face in every picture I've ever seen of him, even professional portraits. He also had the worlds longest needle bars, or he was a dwarf. The thing looks like it's about three inches off the top of his hand. I don't get how anyone works that way, but I get the "Oh left handed people can't tattoo" thing all the time. I'm not one to look down on people when they use slang, no matter their station in life. I try to educate them as much as I can so they don't come off looking silly or worse if they sit down with a "tough guy".

I get this a lot, because back in super duper drunk days I started a sleeve with a spider web on my elbow, and then blew the rest of the cash on beer. "Have you served time?" I get a whole lot. Call me a lying carny, go on, because I always tell them yes. Then I go on about Alcatraz. Either they get that I'm messing with them, or they just nod because they're so freaked out. Get some history books! I'm 33, and Alcatraz closed in 1963, when I was pre zygote by 16 years. Buncha silly people. How much did it cost? "$170," Is my answer for everything. When I get the "My Boy did this for..." I can relate. I have friends too, so I assume that someone is calling me "my boy" somewhere at that moment. I like hearing about people's ideas too, it's inspiration to me. Even if they have really bad work. I met a guy with a "red neck skull" that was all sorts of awful, but he liked it. Bully for him. If it moves you it moves you, regardless. I figure it's my 'tude. I'm still humbled everyday that people would sit down in front of me and let me work on them. That smile I get... I don't have kids but I figure that's how a parent feels when the little tike takes a first step or throws a spoon and wails them in the head. Go on and ask, I'm so damned gregarious you'll get an answer...

I had the same question for a long time too. Thom deVita stated in the Vice Tattooage doc that it didn't matter. In fact it made it a collaboration, which is something I never thought of. Just think of say a Cliff Raven outline with Joe Six Pack Kitchen Wizard color and Paul Booth Shading. Kind of hurt your mind huh? It does mine.

I try to make people comfortable, so I'll people if they have something they want to hear, by all means bring it along. As a musician my tastes vary widely. Some days it's Greatful Dead, some days Black Flag, some times I listen to classical. I know quite few people who listen to stuff like Enya (I'm not outing them here, they know who they are) and I can't handle that sort of thing for more then a few seconds before I'm rummaging around for Slayer... One of the best times I ever had getting a tattoo was when the owner, after a huge BS session while his wife set up work on the middle of my chest, put on Ween for me. I was goofing big time, just making them laugh. She finally looked at me, with near tears in her eyes and begged me to stop so she could work. I sort of go into myself when I work too, so the music seeps into my brain. But really, and I'm sure it bothers people on occasion, I'm a talker. I'm always asking if they're OK, need a break, need a Jelly Belly, and I try to calm people down. If the music does it, I don't care if it's Gregorian chants, so be it.

Love the thread on Chi tattooing. As a huge geek I love history of any kind, but ever since I got serious about tattooing it's all I can talk about it. Drives my lady crazy all my second and third hand tattoo things. I've been looking into artists that have not been house hold names, but never the less left a mark. Tex Rowe, Danny Danzl, and Ernie Sutton come to mind right away, and since this was about Chicago, one of the places Sutton worked, I thought I would post a picture of him and his partner Lou Lewis, who he worked with and ran the LA Supply company with. (I have to give credit to shaneenholm for his masterful and pretty darned funny entry on the Pike and Swingates, which proves that the more I know I know diddly. Read it here: http://www.lastsparrowtattoo.com/forum/crazy-tattoo-stories/86-swinggates-pike-more-you-look-less-you-know.html) Mr. Sutton is on the left and Mr. Lewis is on the right. Sutton worked with Tahiti Felix, Sailor Ted Warner and taught Mr. Zeke Owen and Tennessee Dave. He was also a bank robber from what I understand too. I think his flash book is out there although I haven't picked it up just yet. If anyone has more information on him let me know. Thanks For the pic...

I get an itch in the middle of my chest as well. I have a very cool nude there, just an outline and soft shading, but in the middle of the night I'll be scratching away. It might be an allergic reaction to the ink. Very possible in fact as some bootlegers will go as far using cinnabar to this day, when they know darned well that is no good for anyone, unless you're one of these guys... An Unfortunate Amalgam: Syphilis, Tattooing & Mercury | Life & 6 Months ... and even then. I've heard that Kuro Sumi can have a nasty reaction to some people. I use it and even on myself I find no problems. Their colors however I have heard horrible nightmare stories about and I don't know anyone who uses them. What I used for years in both the healing and just everyday skin maintenance is good 'ol Lubraderm Intensive care. The guy who worked on my elbow, Jerry, swore by it: "Don't be a putz! That crap is all the same. A&D and then Lubriderm." I have tried other things since, going as far as to pop open a vitamin E cap (with a clean single needle) and putting that on there, which did make the strawberry ice cream cone that Shawn at Monster Monkey put on me look great. It pops big time. I have some of this pure vitamin E lotion sold at Wal Mart's Spring Valley brand. I haven't used it yet as I still have a big bottle of the other left, but when I get another, and I feel my fever rising, I'll come back and let you all know. I'm pretty loath to put anything more than that on my skin. If the itching keeps up I use calamine lotion, just like my Mom used to put on me when I had a rash when I was a kid. Works wonders for me so might want to try it. Best of luck, and just reading this threat has made me start to itch.

I'm with you InkPlease, although I had the feeling a far longer time back. I can understand the "hyping" of it all for TV, but time limits are might silly. If you can take it, I'll sit there tattooing you all day. What got me was watching them pin stripe and doing graffiti art (please excuse that I don't remember the season). As I've always said, I'm not all that great, there are better tattoo men and women then me out there, but no one yet has come to me and said, "I would get a tattoo from you, but I need to see how you work with a spray can first. Of course, maybe I should get into pin striping. I could be "Sailor Von Dutch". My Mom is really proud of my sense of humor too, to say nothing of my ink. (big wink) Now Bad Ink? All day long.

I had the pleasure of getting to speak briefly with Eric Inksmith (his father worked Jacksonville with Paul Rodgers under the "Inksmith and Rodgers" banner"). Called his shop a few weeks later and gave him the number of Mr. Larry Mora who makes his father's (Col. Todd) machines. Even the call was fun as one of the guys who worked in his shop had a bunch of pictures of a guy who worked on by Stoney when he was wintering in Tampa.

I too like a good meal. I eat lightly, but high in protean. Steak or pork. Now when I'm tattooing, I always make sure after I'm set up to go over everything in mind a few times. I got the feeling there might have been something wrong with me (big OCD) because I was turning around 360 looking at everything while I went over it. I don't do that very much anymore if at all. One thing I'll tell you that I've held fast too, not that I'm proud of it, is smoking a few cigs before I get going. I'm don't stop tattoos for smoking, unless the client wants too. Gee, I guess that was sort of like saying, "I like to kill myself a little before I tattoo."

I have two pieces done with rotary machines. One is tiger, with it's claws holding a doughnut. I'm silly. I know. The other is on my hand. Both didn't turn out very well. They also both hurt badly. The tiger took near 34 hours and the color is awful. The hand, well it is a hand, so the healing process was slower. I told the guy, "Please don't use that thing on me again. Thank you." I've only had one myself, a direct drive, and my own tastes lean toward coils, and very heavy weight.

First off I have to say I can take it, but when the stomach piece started creeping to my ribs, it hurt. And it hurt baaaaaaaad! I guess I always expect pain, but I'm a tad ticklish myself. I'm loath to take away from the whole thing, even the pain, but I'm not one to scoff at people who can't after a while, or at all. We're all different. That numbing cream is expensive though. A tattooer I know came up with the novel idea of using Preparation H. He must have read it online and according to him, when I worked on his hand, it numbed it right up. I can get color in, but the Mom's royal blue would not take, and after grinding it a bit (Mom's is awfully thick stuff, but they've been around forever so they must be doing something right) I had it in solid. So I thought. Three days later it looked like I had no idea what I was doing. Like I was scratching away with no brain at all. Then I figured it out I think. If the Prep H shrinks tissues it also closes pores. I realized I wasn't seeing the normal swelling and pores when I worked, which was why I was feeling so odd about the tattoo. I'm a "go by the gut" guy anyway, but I try to be very attuned to the skin and client as well. (READ: I keep a jar of Jelly Bellies at all times.) It was a memorial piece too for his father who had just been buried that day with full military honors, which made me feel extra bad. In my head I'm going, "AHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!" Of course on my face was just a look of sheer terror. The moral? If you need the numbing cream, by all means get it. I'd never mock you. But leave the Prep H in the back of the bathroom drawer.

South Carolina, where I was at for an extremely short while, was the second to last state to lift the ban on tattooing, preceding Oklahoma by two years in 2005. When I was done with my apprenticeship I got "Drop Dead" on my knuckles, done by a great artist friend of mine. They didn't heal so well, so I've had them retouched and may add some color. To spite what that might sound like a negative, I really didn't mean it that way. It's because I'm so "gorgeous", which if ya see me is even more funny since I look kinda like the bottom of some dude's foot who hasn't worn shoes in 25 years and works slopping hogs. I also got a very cool Rosy piece, and yes I bought the book from Hardy-Marks rather then doing an internet yoink, of his "black dog" which covers most of the left, tattooing, hand and goes up on my wrist covering part of a scar. For those who don't don't know the lore of sea, if one sets his eyes on black dog, and tells another sailor, the sailor told will die within a year. I think that's the reason Billy Bones keeled over in Treasure Island when young Jim Hawkins spoke to him of the pirate Black Dog. It's a harbinger, and I sorta like wearing the black hat. But I digress, back to South Carolina... When I got up there it seemed that every 3rd person I met was an artist, or wanted to be. And that's how it roles when you can't legally get one. I saw some crazy stuff, like whole pieces done with a 8 shader that looked hashy and blown out to the max... but who am I to judge? So I'm staying in this town out by I-95 in a hotel and waiting for these morons from the health dept, and DHEC, and the fire marshall, and the building inspector and whatnot to come out and check the place out, so I'm spending money I don't have on food, laundry, more food (I like to eat, what can I say?), smokes, gas and driving all over creation doing all this. This town, being right on the side of the interstate is a wild place, not that I'm all that wild any more myself. I'd have a few cocktails at night and stay in, more content to draw or write then go crazy. You get one DUI and it makes you take pause, you know? The cops in this county knew there was a shop opening (us, about 15 miles away) and as well there was another place opening too in the town I was staying in. The cops were tough here too, because of the lawless gang culture that was prevalent, as well the transient nature of the town itself. I'm from a tourist town, and although I'm very anti-authority, I understand it. What I didn't think about was when I ashed my smoke out the car window, mind you I don't litter with the butts, but I'm not going to tap ashes all over the massive amount of change I seem to end up with in the ashtray either, my (gasp) TATTOOED HAND was out for all to see. I see lights. No ticket, but I got questioned. Then I got pulled over again. Same deal. "Where were you incarcerated when you got those?" OK, did this guy miss a class, a memo, or is he too dumb to even turn off football and read a damned book? I mean really, they have "Lock Up" on MSNBC for near 72 hours on the weekends. I can understand trying to get away from work, but if I need to work on piece for a client and I can't sit at the shop, I have homework. Obviously continuing education is NOT part of the job. "They don't have colored ink in prison you know..." Said I. Eight times this happened to me, and once there was a guy, in broad daylight, selling crack right across the road. "You maybe wanna bust the guy slinging rock over there?" I asked. "How do you know he's selling crack?" In a the super Joe Friday voice. And these guys are no one to mess with, para military to the max, but down home Southern cops too. I'm not a rude guy, I say "Yes, Sir," I say, "No, Sir", even, "Thank you" to these guys. I call people Sir I've known for years. It's just how I was raised. I blinked like a new born goat, "I don't know. Maybe because cars are stopping and he's leaning in windows?" Back here in Florida where I was born and raised? Not a thing. I mean here if you have one tattoo people look at you like you had a full body suit in the '20s. I maybe get a nice little old lady asking me a question or two, but never, "How many bodies in your trunk Henry Lee Lucas?" Bob Shaw said he regretted getting his hands done because he got looked at like he was a convict on the bus. I thought in this day and age we were past that, but I guess in some places, and nothing against the SC, or anywhere in the South at all, that stigma still holds up.

Hello all. When I was 18, actually my 18th birthday, I sat down, like the mean, and terminally retarded, punker kid I was and I got Black Flag bars put on my inner left, lower arm. I didn't know how to talk in a shop as green kid, and I'm sure I came across looking very foolish. Foolish seems to be my watch word even today. Considering it was in the Speed Stick days I'm just happy I didn't come out of it with 18 tropical diseases. I didn't know anything about anything. I said to myself, "There is a tattoo shop. I'm gonna get one." Did I ask to see a book? No. Was there flash on the walls? No. Were they fly by night scammers? You bet you're sweet bippy, but hey, I got my first. Kathy, a former skinhead in retrospect, was kind to me. I'm really happy it wasn't say Tatts Thomas' place, so I didn't get the "shoe factory" treatment when I said, "How does that gun work?" Kathy explained to me, as she realized I wasn't knuckle dragging mouth breather, well OK not much of, that gun should be eradicated from my lexicon. She told me about the coils, springs, set screw... just enough to wet my whistle. She even told me a little about capacitors and Charlie Wagner too. "You wanna hold it?" She asked with a sly grin. I took the machine and it certainly didn't feel natural, but it sure did feel right in my hand. She waited a second and stomped on the switch and the Superior 8 wrap (I now know from the "chattering skull" set screw) came to life. Blew my mind right off my shoulders. "You seem nice," She said, "This is my 'bastard' machine. Figure you'll remember to call it a machine from here on out..." About 45 min later I had a crummy tattoo, but it was there. Still is, and I took a ton of poo from my parents over it too. But I was the only guy in my class with a visible tattoo, so I had cred. Sorta. I became a hang around. I ran errands, bought pizza (not that it hurt my feelings), and although I was paying them with my meager dishwasher's wage for apprenticeship that ended when they suddenly, and with out warning shut down, I knew that one day I wanted to be a tattooer myself.

Hello. Gloomy here making my entrance. Tattooing, on and off since I was 22. Seriously for about three years now. Much more to learn of course, but I'm not one to have a big head. I'm very much into the "old masters" although people like Paul Booth, Caleb Morgan, and many more I can't think of at this early hour for me. I'm writing as well as gearing up to start a shop here in Central Florida, although there are so many fine artists here, truly, that I'm humbled every day to see fine work, and being my worst critic, strive to do the best work I can. I'm pretty gregarious. I'll pull a hunk of pork chop out of my mouth, put my beer down, and run after an old guy or gal on the off chance that they'll tell me about an old green one. The wonderful thing about tattooing that I feel sometimes we miss is that we're artists, we have more in common than not. There is room for everyone, it isn't going to die. Sure, the art will on skin, as we all have a shelf life. The flash, the machines, the crazy, scary, and down right funny stories (and what is up with the old time guys and monkeys? My grandfather had one once, terrible stories he told me, and every time I hear about an artist with a monkey I brace myself for something worse) that bind us, rather then tear us apart. It's not us against us, no matter what the back biting of the current and past maybe. For me it's balance always. I'm a 'mersh artist, I just happen to be one with a really friggin' cool jobby job. You can't go swimming without getting wet, so I put on my mask and snorkel and dive deep into as much of the art, the history of it, and the mechanics as I can. From making machines, tuning (things I'll admit I'm getting better at, but still I'm way lame), to cutting acetates, to dealing with people of all walks as we do these days, to taking classes with the retired folks at the library on watercolors. My goal is not to be the best, as Stoney St. Clair (a true inspiration when I'm feeling burned out) said, "Just as good as the rest." Sometimes I get asked what I do best. My answer is simple: clean, quality work. You walk away happy, smiling, and without a fatal liver disease. I do have other interests too. I love to write, and I'm doing some tattoo history research, albeit slowly, as well as working on a novel about tattooing, revenge, and redemption set right before world war two. I'm a big US Civil War buff. I've played music since I was 12 and have not let up on that either. Somehow, I even find time to be with my stunning woman, who I have no idea what she sees in me. All that aside I have a bit of the rebel in me. I hated school from the first day of kindergarden. It was a 14 year (I wasn't held back, but I was too big for another year of the little kid stuff, and too dumb for 1st grade) prison sentence. Even in art class, even though I didn't know what flash was, that's the kind of stuff I would draw. I used to be a bad kid. Anything I could think to do I would. Took me a long time to realize that my Mom, one of the five best women I know, had raised me with manners. Like to 27! I got a DUI. I liked to play two hand tag. Stay out late with the boys and I got my first ink on my 18th birthday, the first in my family. My sister may have beaten me in tattoo numbers by now. I dunno. These days though I try to take things slow, reason them out, and keep my head about me with a liberal dose of humor, much of which I pointed right back at me. I have a terrible temper that I try to control, and every now and again flares up big time. More often then not though it's for about five minutes, and then I have doughnut and some coffee and babble about the fierce look on Cap Coleman's mug, or how on my 10th birthday all I wanted was a Gameboy. That same day Paul Rodgers passed away and now I'd sell my left hand (yeah, I'm a lefty. Bad genes. I know. I know...) for a honest to goodness J frame or Mad Bee. Might just have to make it myself, ja? I'm currently learning German, and as well, even though I have no business doing it, I'm drawing with my best bro, who has recorded much of my music and puts up with my pique, and plays mean drums and keys, and he's into the idea of tattooing now too. We're learning from each other, bouncing ideas back and forth, delving into all sorts of dark corners of this "black art". Um... hmmm. I like animals. I hope one day someone asks me for a sheep tattoo rather then a wolf. My sister is 100 times the artist I am. She can paint! I'm just rocking the high end of bum, the lowest bottom man on the pyramid of greatness. If I can pull myself up to just being a solid worker, I'll feel pretty good. I expect nothing, but I will show all of you respect, and will do my best to help, inspire (such as I can), prod, poke and joke all of you, be you artist or client, into being better then me. Which certainly won't be hard for you all. All the best, and I mean it! -Gloomy Gus PS- Trust yourself in everything and you can't lose.