lazy portland morning...

outside this space the wind whirls the leaves off the tree and into the backseat of my open window car. i can't seem to settle but i am settled here watching you draw from across the room while your impeccable taste in good music sings out from the kitchen. two months but one year of the most important conversations i can recall. in the ebb and flow of life you have relieved me of complete apathy....for these small pleasures, i am grateful. i am making my way through things. i feel slightly blind...naive...not sure where to place my words most of the time. not sure where to place my "nice" in a world full of so much negative shit. i have disconnected a bit and for a while. but i think once i find my words again i will find my way back to things and call them home again.......

one day and a few steps closer....

to a life i imagine me to be living....
it wasn't just historic tattoo
it was a sketchbook that gave me understanding
as to what level i should be working at
what level i should be striving for on a daily basis
not a weekly basis
not wasting my breath on how much time i don't have
i am very good at seeming busier than i am
i need to be this busy...
and mean it
and be grateful for it
today i had momentum
today i was selflessly grateful
today i got things done for so many more than one reason
i swear, if you show me a light...
i will show you endless loyalty

Bro Rad Tatz....

Dear Hailie,
Thank you for being an awesome human being. Thank you for being the person that I can say anything to without judgment... or with so much judgment, it's laughable. Thank you for trusting me enough to let go of things. Thanks for keeping me warm with wine and talks and slumber parties. Thanks for kicking me in the face with those long ass legs. Thank you for being the stoic body on which some of my favorite beginner tattoos exist. Thanks for nailing me really hard in the side of my hand. It didn't hurt a bit. When people ask, "is that a tattoo?" ...I reach inside and smile, thinking bout the look on your face when you picked up the machine and say, "Yes, it's a bro tat."
I hope we are holding on when one or the other or both finds a light at the end of our fuckin' black ass tunnels. I can't imagine my life in the light without you.
Maybe, if you're as internet stalker as you say you are then you will find this and laugh.
Maybe, I will just show it to you.
xoxox
Your friend,
j-

for the first time in years...

It's amazing to feel void of any love for any one person....a sort of tingling feeling when that light bulb goes off.
I went the other day to get the outline of my overdue "Mom" tattoo. It's the most beautiful ENTIRE THIGH tattoo, ever. I am glad to know Craig Brown. I was glad to sit in the studio where he worked and glad to banter with him about the industry. (what little he cared due to having a new-born in the house) He was eager to show me all the art projects he was working on. Amazing. It's like a warm tattoo blanket being wrapped around me. It is worth every penny spent on covering the thunder that is my thigh.
I am the one who has to bend to the fact that not everyone will accept that free is not always in my best interest. I am always the one who bends. I can see the break starting in my heart... awww somebody get me a violin!
P.s. tonight a message was left on my voice-mail about Alan Helmke (my father) from Daniel at "crime source" about a litigation he (my father) is involved in. They have reason to believe that I am a relative and it's very important that Alan gets in contact with them. Could I pass on that information. Name and Number yada yada.
14 years since I have seen that man longer than minutes and this is how I hear his name for the first time in years.
Get out the violin..... There is no one to call and say, "hey guess what crazy thing happened tonight?" honestly, I am void of even caring.
I have to concentrate on being better than you...

the smell of nag champa and gasoline

Sometimes it's a fumble game to navigate my way through a garage and pray that a 71/72? triumph... two 65 Honda's and a dirt bike that I don't know the name of... Well, that they don't jump out in front of me while I make my way into a basement. My home. I suck in the gasoline fumes as i pass through and try to cover the musty damp basement smell with Nag Champa. Hippie maybe, but it comforts me. Infact, it burns in front of my Ganesh that helps me over-come obstacles. Like.... the pile of clothes that are perpetually on my floor... that's a fucking obstacle. The walls are painted with the guts of beautiful spiders. I shall keep coming back as one until I am smashed a million times with shoes.
It's lonely here with a garage full of gasoline fumes and basement full of nag champa. My dreams are too big for this space... but until I can over-come this obstacle, i will continue to move art.

intimidating....

i am my biggest enemy.... i am the wall in my way.
like giants... they were. on some days i think i am too nice for the hard shell male ego based world of tattooing. on other days being nice is my non-obtrusive foot in the door. my feeling of awkward could only come from the shifting of faces from shop to shop and the shifting of lies from lips to lips. the cries of tattoo drama can be heard from end of the city to the other right now.
this unassuming shop was incredible and impeccable and full of talent. my cost of paying for something i can get free at anytime is worth the knowledge gained and the potential friendship in the business. i have no intentions of burning any bridges i have successfully built thus far... and will continue to build. i enjoy the massive cesspool of talent from which i can pluck and hang on my wall or steal for furthering and building my own technique. i have days full of self pity and sadness for a life lost. i was a somebody with 10 years into a real talent. i was good and had something that others wanted to barter with.
i have returned to the bottom of a life. naive can't even begin to explain how i feel. my desire is to learn fast and earn respect. crawl my way up to some some sort of ground again.
i am inspired... not nearly enough some days but inspired enough to know that this is where i want to be and these are the people i want to be with.
like giants they were....beautiful, intimidating, inspiring giants.
j-