I have been away from tattooing for four years now. It has been the major constant in my life since I was fourteen years old.
I made the decision to retire and live out my days in the sunshine of California and followed that dream. Dreams can so soon fade as reality takes a hold. Our worldly goods were shipped off in a container and delivered to our new home.
We travelled between the US and Mexico for a good few years and met some amazing people, visited places that were so beautiful that they would leave you smiling for days. But dreams are double edged and as sharp as a razor blade. Things are never as they seem and even though it was never at the forefront of my mind, tattooing was always there, lurking and making me unhappy with my new life. The rot had set in but I was too wrapped up in the new life to see what had really happened.
Circumstances dictating that I return to my green and pleasant homeland caused a ripple effect. I had my eyes opened and my initial dissatisfaction with coming back faded and has been replaced with a diamond hard fact of life. I tattoo therefore I am. It is who and the what defined by the passion and love that I hold for the whole world of tattooing that has kept me alive and challenged. I need to be challenged to progress as an artist and a human being.
So here I stand at the death of a false God and here I kneel at the altar of my craft.
God works in mysterious ways and I choose to follow.
