I have the head of a wolf

Of course, there is no better accompaniment to new glasses than a new haircut [√] and a new tattoo [√]. The new tattoo is shown here (though I need to get a better pic now that it's almost healed):



As per most of my tattoos over the past 30 months, this was again made by Xam at Frith Street Tattoo in London. It sits on my lower right leg, between the shin bone and calf muscle.

I had hoped to sit upright and grab some photos of Xam working on the area, but it proved too difficult for me to hold myself in position while he was working. I just couldn't relax enough, and my body -- and more importantly, the area being tattooed -- started doing all sorts of weird flinchy stuff. I was concerned it would make it tough for Xam to make good lines, so I lay down instead. That was much better.

I am totally stoked with the finished result. When I first sat up at the end of the session, I was blown away by how awesome it was. That's not to say I felt it was better than any other recent tattoo; I think it was more because I was able to see the whole thing easily, without contorting my body or using a mirror, all of which makes it harder to get that instant gratification, I think.

’Tis done

Is it Wednesday already?

It's my dad's birthday today. He's 61.

On Monday I had another two and a half hours' work done on my tattoo backpiece. It's looking so motherfucking rad now, man. I really love it. Which is a good thing, cos it would kind of be a problem now if I didn't, wouldn't it?! According to my little black book, that puts the total time spent in the chair so far at 12 hours. And unlike some tattooers, Xam tends to be working the whole of that time, rather than taking phone calls and shooting the shit with passers-by. As a client I really appreciate the difference. He reckons we'll be pretty much done in about another two sessions, or around five hours.

This week's session was the most painful yet. There were times when I was thinking I'd have to stop. I've never experienced that before. But I kept saying to myself, "If I tap out now, it's another six weeks or so until I get back here." That was enough to spur me on and endure the discomfort.

What else...?

Oh yeah, I sent Shea a copy of the short film I made (whisper it) 11 years ago, coupled with a music video from the following year, I think. It'll be interesting to hear what he thinks of them. If I ever get around to it, I might even post them up on here someday.

I've set myself a small film-making challenge for this week, too, so I hope to get that started and finished in the next couple of days.

Italy went out of the European Cup, losing to Spain on penalties. That sucked, but they didn't play so great.

If you've not been over to my movie reviews (such as they are) in recent weeks, there has been some activity there, though I confess to having been a little lax. I'm trying to get on top of that shit, cos I'm watching some good films at the moment.

I'm sure I had some other stuff to write about, but it's gone clean out of my head. Oh well, probably wasn't very important. Not as important as me getting downstairs to deal with the washing up, anyway. So, off I go.

Three things to write about

1. Monday I went and had another 2 hrs 15 mins tattooing done on my backpiece. It's really coming along now. We're probably just over halfway through. It's looking awesome, guys -- or "sick", as Gallows frontman Frank said when he saw it as Xam was working on me, because Frank was tattooing at the shop that day, too.

Some of you have seen how it's looking so far. If you haven't, I'll mail pics to any regulars who are interested, so just leave me a comment to say you wanna.

2. The British government has won the first round in its attempt to increase the detention time for terrorism suspects, taking the time allowed to keep prisoners without charge up to a mammoth 42 days, or six weeks, while they gather the requisite evidence to take them to court. Um, excuse me, but what the fuck?!

This is such bullshit. How many people have we seen arrested and held for the current 28 days only to be released without charge? Quite a few is how many. Holding someone for six weeks, potentially someone who doesn't even know why they are held, since there is no obligation for the police to tell them, is completely fucking bogus. And Gordon Brown (who spookily has the same initials as that other fuckwit) could not even have won this without pulling in reinforcements. The man's a complete arsehole and should be got rid of asap.

3. It's 12 June, and it's thundering. Thundering?! Holy shit. Welcome to summer.

Easter came and went

Spent most of the weekend working, if only to justify my not working on Tuesday, when, instead, I headed out to the tattooist for two and a half more hours of inkage. Looking rad it is, too. Above is a snippet.

On the subject of tattooing, I heard of the death of one of London's premier tattoo artists a few days ago. Jason Saga had been on my shortlist of artists for consideration when I was looking for a new tattooist about 18 months ago. I found Xam instead, since my wants shifted away from Japanese style and more towards old school. But Jason's site remained in my bookmarks. Upon hearing of his death, I also learned that his wife had occasionally worked as a receptionist at my old tattoo studio. I'd admired her sleeves, and she told me, "My boyfriend Jason did them." I never put two and two together, though, since there are a few Jasons tattooing in London.

This is a sad loss for tattooing, and for British tattooing in particular. Despite the growing popularity of the artform, those of us genuinely interested in getting good work from respected artists are still a fairly small, minority community.

--------------------

Watched a few movies over the weekend. My list of movies still to review is ridiculous now. I think I'll have to cull some, write them off as too far in the past. Or maybe give them a sentence or two and a score.

Here's the list. Feel free to request a review or two!

Requiem
The World's Fastest Indian
Who Killed the Electric Car?
the fountain
Babel
London to Brighton
An Inconvenient Truth
Clapham Junction
Notes on a Scandal
Intacto
TV Junkie
Following
Stage Beauty
Timecode
Apocalypto
Creep
The Warrior and the Princess (aka Princess and the Warrior)
Best Laid Plans
The King
A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints
Since Otar Left
The Bridge
Where the Heart Is
Eight Below
The Notorious Bettie Page
Hostel
Britz
Deep Water
Internal Affairs
A Scanner Darkly
Elf
Following Sean
The Closet
Aprile
Il Caimano
9th Company
Torremolinos 73
Charlie Wilson's War
Planet Terror
The Battle for Haditha
The Passion of The Christ
The No.1 Ladies' Detective Agency
Chicken Run.

Intermission over: Back to Valencia

Saturday, 24 November (still...)
So after our huge walk down to the port, we had to wait for the America's Cup store to open. And when it did, unfortunately we were unable to buy what Red had wanted for her mother. So while the walk had been for nowt, it had still been a fun one! We looked out for a cab and headed back to the hotel room.

At the time Red was looking at possible hotels, she had read that this one had, in some rooms, only a window separating the bedroom from the bathroom. This sounded like great fun, perv that I am, so we really hoped we got one of those. And we did! It was cool and wacky!

We chilled and nursed our blistered feet before heading our for some food. My tattooist Xam is from around Valencia, and so I had asked him if he could recommend any good restaurants. He had given me a couple of names, one of which is apparently frequented by Spanish stars and royalty. We had to give it a go. So we headed out into the night. We wanted to explore some of the busy streets by night before eating, and we also had to stop in at an Internet cafe to check in online for our return flight.

Once we decided it was time to eat, we got a taxi. It took us all the way back to the port area, but only when we got there did we discover that the restaurant was closed for the season. Fortunately, just a few doors away was the other restaurant that had been recommended.

We sat and ordered food, wine, and water. We were ravenous. We'd not eaten since a small bite at 1pm, and it was now about 9pm if memory serves. The chances are that it was probably later because the restaurant had quite a few people in it, and people eat late in Spain. (When we were in Seville, we found this great steak restaurant. We went there at gone 9pm one night and were the only people there. It started getting busier as we were about to leave. Can you imagine eating a steak at 11pm?! Amazing...)

We ordered paella -- what else, since Valencia is the home of the dish? I must say, I enjoyed mine. Red was a little less convinced. We have an ongoing beef about paella since her birthday in Seville. I won't go into it, save to say that perhaps I made a mistake that we both ended up paying for. Sorry, pet. Kisses!

After dinner, we looked for a cab and headed back to the hotel, I think. We were shattered, and I was probably a bit tipsy, so my memory is unclear now!

---------------------

Sunday, 25 November
Next day we breakfasted fairly early so we could get out and pound the streets some more. We both love getting away from our desks, of course, and we love both beach and city breaks. But when we do city breaks, fuck do we do 'em! I mean, we walk our motherfucking feet off. You've got to, though, right? It might be the only time you go to a particular city, so you need to have no regrets about missing anything.

We headed into the old town area and walked the squares and looked at fountains and stuff. Just walking fairly directionless, letting the city be our guide. Well, letting the city and the guide book be our guides. And the map.

We found some crazy dogs playing in the streets. And then some men and women in "traditional" Spanish dress. By traditional, I mean, old-school, dancey, traditional, cos at the end of the day, traditional dress for everyone these days is jeans, T-shirts, jumpers, of course.

Then we stumbled upon a street where everyone was congregating. It was mayhem. Old and young, male and female. What was going on? we wondered. You know what it was...? Trading cards. Everyone was going crazy buying and swapping football cards. Incredible...

Here's the video of this leg of our journey.

Too Young To Worry

Yeah, I've long been the worrying kind, but in a bid to stop myself worrying about stuff, I've taken a leaf out of Martha's book and put a reminder of my new mantra on my forearm, for easy access, in the form of a sugar-skull tattoo. Click the pic for a closer look.

It took just about 2 hours 15 minutes, which is super-quick. One of the first things Xam told me at the beginning of this year was that he works fast, and he wasn't kidding. I'm mad pleased with the end result and have also made my first appointment for my backpiece...

So, while this one heals and we get through Christmas (without worrying, of course), New Year, and the wife's birthday, I can also be looking forward to yet more ink. Jeez, how much fun can one guy have?!

Colour me happy

Well, Friday the 13th was not unlucky for me, since I went to tattooist Xam and got my newest tattoo finished (with the exception of perhaps a little bit of touching up later to hide the old covered-up tattoo as well as possible).

Here's the finished job:



And here are a couple of details:





The one bad thing about my day was my dietary intake. I ate a pizza before leaving home, a burger before getting tattooed, and a Chinese takeaway when I got back. Eww, that's a very bad day's food by anyone's standards...