FOXHOLE CHRONICLES PART 2
And as foxholes go this one is fairly well appointed, If by fairly well appointed I mean that there is a Maccadee,s just beyond our fortified perimeter! The photo,s of combat weary Too Tall and myself have attracted more than a few comments,I knew there had to be a reason for throwing the steel helmet and grenade in my kitbag!will I wear it on stage? Nay this hat was a gift from my wee brother for my 21st birthday celebration way back in 1984.Keir bought me a poster of the Sex pistols as well, Recollections are hazy, Keir if you are any kind of brother at all ? And I know that you read this pish! I mean literature! was it you or me who " stuck the nut " HEADBUTTED a fellow drunk in Queen street station "wearing the steel helmet ! I know you were the one who started the STOOSHIE ...Fight.... off by slapping someone hard across the face with the Sex pistols poster, leaving a white crease along the line of impact! I cant imagine that it is a pleasant experience being butted in the face by a drunken Airdrieonion who happens to be wearing a WW 11 American camouflage steel helmet. I tell myself that whoever was RATTLED....hit... didnt receive the hit for in my fathers words " forgetting to say his prayers.
   It,s funny looking back hw society has changed, My chief recollections of the pre city of culture glasgow are of grimy rainy streets and smoky pubs full of punters already HALF JAKED = drunk on pre drinking session carryouts of Buckfast tonic wine ,Eldorado or Thunderbird wine.The legendary Saracens head pub down by the barrowlands ballroom supposedly would give you the wipings off the tables squeezed into a tumbler.the barrowlands is a great venue, this is the venue that my brother threatened to " rip the arm" off an unpleasant Ramones roadie and beat him with it.Keir had been talking to new bass player CJ when this BALLOON KNOT = asshole had tried to menacingly growl at him " step aside or someone will get hurt! He added cryptically " and it might be you! Keir had laughed in his face and sent him packing! Maybe he wouldnt have tried to scare my brother if he had realised that my brother had gotten out of the feared Barlinnie jail that day!!!! But lest you think my brother was a jailbird, He got released from jail five days a week 50 weeks a year! He was a prison guard.
  But Glasgow was fun,and there was always a good band to go and see! And truth be told the scuffles that we would get into were the adult equivalents of kids in a city sized sandbox. we were much happier " shooting the shit " than rolling about in broken beer glasses and ash trays! But if it kicked off if you couldnt defuse the situation then you had to join in and if nothing else get your pals out of it. Running from a fight was only slightly above being a GRASS = Snitch or something worse that I wont type down.
  But for the time being I,ll have Too tall lay down suppressing fire and head across the road for a dreaded Big Mac meal.
DAVYTHEJAKEY.

Have a great weekend





















































'

HOW MANY M AND M,S IN A PACKET???
HELLO
  Yes you read my question correctly. The answer is 21! thats eleven m and m,s each for Too tall and I. Currently flat ass broke in a hotel room in South Carolina! Half an hour ago  I gave Too Tall my last dollar to in my words " gimp on down to the vendy machine and bring back a chocolate bar we could share! The forager returned 5 minutes later happier than a dog with two boabies.....PENISE,S! The reason for his euphoria?? He had found a dollar on the hotel floor and happily returned with 2 packets of chips! and a packet of m and M,s! HUZZAH! we wont starve, I have a banana in the fridge and when we get t the gig there will doubtless be a hospitality tent for performers , we will fall upon that like starving wolve,s  guzzle any free beer that will be lying around and return sweatsoaked to THE FOXHOLE! Never to be called a hotel room ,thank you where doubtlessly we will gitter on about graphic novels that will be bought when TOUROS the great god of penniless rock n rollers everywhere smiles on us!
  But before that we will eat our 11 m and m,s and sleep, perchance dream, sleeping is a great blessing on the road,and the ability to sink into a twilight zone somewhere between sleep and wakefullness is a necessity as we travel hundreds of American road miles! I tell the good lady that this is the tour that I will " eat sensibly " on this tour! But faced with the choice! " hmmm, I can spend ten BANGERS... DOLLARS... on a really nice salad! Or I can purchase a SNIDE Macdonalds big mac meal and arsehole the money I,ve saved on a trip to Barnes and Nobles " Where i will inevitably buy a book, or a comic book store where I will inevitably buy A a trade copy of Preacher? B the Boys? or C,D,E Hellboy ,The Goon or Garth Ennis war stories? Common sense will fly out the window and with " dour calvinistic perseverance" I,ll stolidly munch through a big Mac meal and litre of iced down coke and fantasise of buying boredom killing literature.

Thanks to TOUROS the great god of impoverished rock n rollers everywhere for putting a dollar where " Too Tall " could find him! I also was given a rock hard shredded pork burger in a filling station last night before it could be thrown in the trashcan!

Davey " it,s a long way to the top! If you wanna rock n roll " the sculptor......

ART,SCULPTURE AND MUSIC JOURNAL.

Good day everyone.
    A couple of years back on tour Pictiboy and I were talking television plays over a Heiniken or 80 ! Too Tall AKA Aya of the sunny disposition accounted for 70 of them before he decided he wanted a real drinking session. Talk turned to a playwright who,se work I greatly admire called Peter Macdougall and a television play in particular that I only saw once, but really inspired me called " Elephants Graveyard. The Baron of the bass drum quickly sprang " Like a gazelle " to a nearby laptop , went to youtube and typed in Elephants graveyard! The whole play plus two others " Just another saturday and Just a boys game were there! I rubbed my hands I knew what I would be watching while home recovering from the road. Hey there was a new case of Heiniken to obliterate.
    I only saw this play once as it aired before we had Beta max " showing my age " or Vhs and I was watching as I waited for pals to go down to the pub. But it really resonated with me and the desperation I was feeling unemployed ,no qualifications and working on the side AKA under the table for 10 pounds a day 3 times a week.
  It,s a two man play starring John Morrison " no relation and the brilliant Billy Connolly, looking very young. Two men, one unemployed Morrison and the other on the sick but neither telling their wives , Just wandering the hills behind Glasgow, They meet up sheltering in an abandoned work building and Connolly shares a couple of bottles of cheap wine with Morrison, Their characters are called Bunny and Jodie, The story has an eerie twist at the end and leaves you thinking! There is no violence only very mild swearing as the two men revert to being wee boys while Connolly / Jody starts the young henpecked Bunny to thinking.
    And thats what got me thinking! If there hadnt been a recession taking place I would have left school and took whatever was flung at me and probably even settled very young, But I had a years unemployment with a government scheme working on a golf course for unemployment money plus a stint as a Janitors assistant thrown in for good measure " I was drinking a cup of tea at the police station at 6 in the morning when I heard the news on the radio about John Lennons murder.
    One of the great things I found as I grew up were the amount of " working men Philosophers " that surrounded me! Immensely intelligent men who had drifted through school and into the workplace when jobs were a dime a dozen, Most married really young 16 or 17 in some cases had large families and just got on with it. By their thirties they had realized that they and their wive,s had missed out on lots of things and the ones I knew loved to impart their wisdom and it really was down to earth common sense wisdom over cups of tea ,and the dreaded cheese sandwiches in the canteens, we called them HOWFFS or BOTHIES. They saw a fire and downright f..king frustation and anger in me  and told me to break the shackles and fly before it was too late for me as there was nothing holding me down! When I got the chance to turn professional with Clannandrumma they used reverse psychology to make sure I took my big chance! You know nasty remarks like " we,re taking bets you wont grab this opportunity! Your too much of a shitbag to leave here ! Your institutionalised now ! I nearly was at age 38 and with nineteen years under my belt. But these guys meant well and I took the chance, And this is what Connollys character Jody is doing with Bunny! You will be left wondering " will Bunny take the chance and the peculiar ending that blindsides you. the scenery is beautiful and sunny, Probably the Campsie hills, and the Philosopher and his apprentice climb tree,s play in a free running stream and big Billy Connolly is hilarious back in a pair of coveralls steelcapped boots with his Army surplus piece bag ...SANDWICH BAG... slung round his neck with two bottles of cheap wine and syrup sandwiches in it. Connolly was a welder in the shipyards of Glasgow before grabbing his chance at fame and fortune through folk music before comedy and acting.
   Watching the play again this morning I though " f..k ! there is a song here and started writing down snatches of the dialogue and then modifying it to suit a melody that convieniently appeared in my mind. Now I have  a philosophical ballad to sing to myself all day and then to wrap around the trusty 7 or 8 guitar chords I doggedly persevere with. I only use 4 chords maximum..
  One of my greatest mentors was a wild looking 1% biker called Davy Allan ! He passed away while I was on tour six years ago, He took me under his wing and when giving an opinion never missed and hit the wall by mistake, A cherished memory is sitting in the immaculate garage he worked on his Harley in and shaking my head " I was having troubles with a talented member of The Whiskey Devils, and the fact he wouldnt show up at gigs! Anyway over a couple of beers I told Davy " F..k it Davy I,m ready to throw in the towel ! I,ve been round the block too often ! He glared at me and said " Your f..king arse ! You own the block! You,ll give up when you die or when I tell you!
  Well Davy! I,m not dead yet and i,m still waiting for you to tell me give up! LOL

Have a great weekend.

DAVYTHESCULPTOR " and songwriter "

R.I.P DAVY ALLAN . AFFA.
 

ART AND SCULPTURE JOURNAL.
GOOD DAY.
  No not a trick question we all know it,s water and toys. There are a couple of types of people that really annoy me with expressions they use! First a man I used to work with, He had never fired a slug gun AKA BB gun at a tin can let alone an enraged enemy soldier but he would rave about war movies and how realistic they were! I would sit listening itching to cry out " How the f..k would you or anybody here know what war was like, Another was a world weary soul who would sigh " I wouldnt want to be young again for 10 million dollars! I was maybe 22 23 and I would be thinking " BOLLOCKS ! Who wouldnt want eternal youth???
  But I,ve revised this thinking now! I really wouldnt want to be a kid nowadays! monday morning bright and early Mrs Ramone and I fill a new paddling pool for the kiddo,s I was surprised the blonde bombsite wanted to go in as she is a preteen, But I thought the wee man will love it ! The pool is barely finished being filled and he wants to go in and play with toys and watch cartoon network. This annoyed and saddened me as my wife was so happy that the kids would get to play in the pool all day if they pleased. But I pushed the feeling to the back of my mind.
     Speaking to my brother on the phone yesterday, Among other things he told me our old housing scheme was now a carpark for a new sub train station in Clarkston. I woke up this morning and it hit me ! What fun can a paddling pool be when you have no one your own age to share it with ? I visualised the seven sets of Courts we were brought up in sixteen families lived in each long two story building! There were a couple of one bedroom apartments for childless couples or elderly people! But there were kids everywhere,And if you couldnt find a child to pal about with ? Well I suppose you could be classed an outsider. This was the era to when most wive,s would stay at home until the youngest child was in their teens ,Then the woman might take a job and materially things would get more comfortable.
    Summer holidays after breakfast and watching television for an hour or so we were hustled out to in my fathers words " Get the stink blawn aff ye! Television was black and white with a coin meter on the back to pay for the rental, We would watch The Banana splits, The french version of Robinson Crusoe " With the absolutely amazing music score, Maybe Herge,s adventures of Tin Tin or the Double deckers. Girls might jam on White horses or Belle and Sebastion . But  after you watched your shows you were outside with your pals. The courts, We lived in 2 Ogilvie court were always humming with activity and although you thought you were on your own, Mothers were watching from the kitchen where a lot of the day was spent as our washing machines were housed there, We didnt really have a " basement culture " this isnt a sexist way of looking at things it was just the way it was! My mother might " hing oot the windae, blethering to neighbours for half an hour at a time. TRANSLATED lean out the kitchen window talking to neighbors. Adults collecting insurance and provident money were always about, Maybe even the fast disappearing rag and bone man trading plastic soldiers balloons or clothes pegs for old clothes.With so many kids together fights would erupt all the time! a lot of the time a male adult might referee and stop the fight if a kid got bloodied or another kid was fighting dirty. I,ll never forget the first time I saw my pal Gator knee another kid in the face! Blood and snotters everywhere and no adult to break it up ! So you learned about life outside the home to and it wasnt always pleasant.
     Before the politically correct brigade came along there were some interesting programmes ! One, a comedy called " Love thy neighbour " Basically a beautiful coloured couple, My sisters used to swoon over the male lead. But next door they had a weedy racist who was always trying to put them down calling them names. He always came off looking like an asshole embarassing his long suffering wife who happily coexisted with the young couple. To me It showed how pointless it was to ever discriminate against people because of the colour of their skin! My mother and father were there to reinforce that to, My father having a great respect fot the Sikhs, Indian warriors and the Gurhka,s from Nepal, Tiny men he told me who could tell a soldiers allegiance from the way he laced his boots and would slice their enemies throats with their dreaded Kukhri knives.
   Thursday nights at seven oclock you wouldnt see a kid or teenager on the streets we would all be glued to the television watching Top of the pops introduced by such luminaries as Tony Blackburn, Dave Lee Travis and Jimmy Saville. No video recorders then! miss TOTP and you were " on to plums" OUT OF LUCK, SOL until the next thursday, and maybe your favourite band had been knocked off the number 1 spot. This was really the only place you could see your heroes up close and personal, even if it was a grainy rental black and white telly.A good childhood unaware of strikes three day weeks and no concept of bombscares in England because of the troubles in Northern Ireland. Thats another story as I try to keep out of politics.

Davythesculptor and partime philosopher and head of clan MacRamone.
NOGARD CIGAM EHT FFUP....


PS. the music score to Robinson Crusoe is on youtube and is about 7 minutes long, No scenes from the series, Just a black and white photo of our hero on his knees in the sand and seawater.

ART AND SCULPTURE JOURNAL.

GOOD EVENING.
  Just off the phone with the young brother, Keir reads the blogs when he can and enjoys the stories of our late father, Being a barber in an old mining village he cuts a lot of elderly retired miners hair, Many remember our father, But usually by his nickname Jigs, A name we never used obviously, So a week or so back a man in his late 60,s is having his hair trimmed and talk turns to his old job as a miner. The old man grows perplexed as Keir talks of Robert Morrison this! Robert Morrison that and the fact that both men worked in the same mines, But the old guy cannot if his life depended on it remember a Robert Morrison, Keir begins to fancy that the old gentleman thinks that perhaps his father lied about working this hard job in harder conditions. My brother is getting embarassed and last ditch attempt says " Look sir! my father came from Holytown, had a brother called Jock who kept horses and worked in a pit called Nowhead in Chapelhall before getting sacked and almost jailed for assaulting a supervisor. The old mans face turns white and he whispers " Your faither wasnt Jigs Morrison wis he son? Relieved Keir says " Yes  he  was! The old man breathes " By Christ son I saw your father hit that gaffer, I was only a young laddie and the bosses tried to force me to lie about what I saw that night! Keir murmurs " Aye there was a man in here swore my father hit  the supervisor repeatedly with a broken piece of 4 by 4! The old man mutters " I know who your talking about! A shitbag who was scared to tell the truth and was bullied into putting that story about although he looked as if he,d been beaten by a lump of 4 by 4! Continuing the older man said " Nah the arsehole your father knocked out told your father that he had put bigger men than him on their backs! Your father smiled and said " Oh ! " Well you had better hope that I dont get back up! Finishing he said " There must be a hundred stories about your dad fighting son! I knew him and saw him fight and he never ever lifted anything other than his hands! He hit him once with a right hander and knocked him clean out! we thought he,d killed him, He stood back waiting for him to get up, But that was never going to happen, There were a lot of stories told about that fight! He stopped " God you couldnt even call it a fight.
  That happened in 1954 /  55 and people still talk about him in hushed tones! And he,s nearly 10 years dead, He was some man, To us a gentle giant who would give anyone the food off his plate and the coat off his back if they were struggling! Just dont f##k with him unless you could back it up.

R.I.P JIGS, Always Dad to us. Davy.

ART AND SCULPTURE JOURNAL.
GOOD DAY.
     I,ve just spent a happy few minutes on the ALBANNACHMUSIC site blethering a load of auld pish about the Imaginary clan Macramone who,se motto is NOGARD CIGAM EHT FFUP. Read it backwards. Anybody who wants to follow the great chieftain " this would be me " pledge allegance to The Ramones and Peter Paul and Mary here.
  Writing! I love it, Why? I can only think that I found it a great release! as a timid kid I suffered a slight stammer and with the guidance of a great teacher discovered a  wonderful way to release anger and frustration. This great man also told me in bible study class that Moses didnt have a great speaking voice, So much so that his brother Aaron spoke for him , That seemed to help me to, Although I,m not notably religious! Each to their own as the lady said when she kissed the horses arse.
  Last week I took a notion to write a short story, I had no idea about what until later while the wee man napped I jumped onto youtube and found myself watching clips of 70,s music, veteran disc jockey Jimmy Saville and ten minutes of the Richard Harris movie this sporting life, I wrote down Donkey Jacket, A working mans coat the young Harris was wearing in the movie, Some 70,s song titles including The Bay city Rollers Saturday night, Tony Orlando,s Tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree and a cheesy song called una poloma blanco! One white bird. I wrote this jumble of words down and an hour later I had a load of nonsense about a man called Ganter Broon! " an old pal of my fathers apparently, I determined I would just write in a stream of consciousness style using song titles and other 70,s iconic words, Evel Knievel was one ,Crimplene another. I was amazed at the scribbles because by the end of three pages I was writing about dimly remembered episodes from childhood in the first person, The essay started off as me writing about this GANTER = STINKING OR SMELLY .. person and how he had fallen in love with of all things ??? His Donkey jacket. Reminds me of an old girlfriend of my brothers who bet me a couple of beers that I couldnt write a " How to be delicate here ??? An essay of a pornographic nature without ANY PORNOGRAPHIC REFERENCES IN IT !!! I managed. I dont know how! I was beaten by a friends challenge of writing a five page essay content of my choice without using the word  AND, I tried and almost drove myself nuts with frustration! the difference the absence of that simple word made.
  Best though was while on tour Talking to the lovely Jacquie Holland of the day I woke up in a paralytic mind altered stupor scrabbling for an essay I had written about the country PORTUGAL the previous night. I have no knowledge of Portugal and in my fevered mind this made my writing almost Shamanic ! I was waxing lyrical about a place I had never been,and knew nothing about ! Well I found the 4 page essay 8 pages as I had covered the two sides of each piece of paper with one word ? Yes you,ve guessed it PORTUGAL. I wasnt a Shaman after all ! Merely a paralytic drunken eejit. Great thing was years later Jacquie was helping me empty my flat and we both howled with laughter as with trembling hands I showed her my long lost dissertation of the country PORTUGAL. It,s lost again LOL.
    Now I dont put myself through that kind of trauma, not to mention hangovers anymore, if the urge to write descends I,ll write ,or like last week throw down disparate phrases and concoct a short story from it ! Why ? I dont know, Maybe in my subconscious mind I,m still the same timid tongue tied little boy who only wants to be heard. Same with songwriting I may dash words about the subject of a song subject that I would like to write about and then forget all about it! A week maybe a month later a song will appear waiting to be polished up.

Have a great day wherever you are in the world.
DAVYTHESCULPTOR.
And Imaginary chieftain of the Imaginary clan MacRamone...
NOGARD CIGAM EHT FFUP.

PS. Do I have the nerve to reproduce last weeks essay here ??? I dont know.

ART AND SCULPTURE JOURNAL.
GOOD DAY.
   And how is everyone today. Almost at the end of present workload, I,ll finish another of my BAND OF BERSERKS this week and a pencil portrait of Queen Boudicca of the Iceni and then start to get ready for the summer tour with my comrades in THE MIGHTY NACH / ALBANNACH as we modestly refer to ourselves, Anyone not familiar with The Nach should check out our website Albannachmusic.com or our myspace. It,s the kind of music that bypasses the intellect hits you in the heart and makes you want to dance,
 In my capacity as bodhran player, vocalist and artist in residence I,ve travelled huge chunks of the United States and in the band we morphed from South Korea, America, Russia, Spain, Germany, Italy and Norway, Which basically means a lot of strange hotel rooms, unusual food and sleep deprivation. After a tour I would return home to my flat in Scotland and realise that my adventures were of very little interest to anyone, They couldnt visualise the things We had seen and would make polite noises of interest in all the right places, Prior to that I had played all over Scotland and the northern parts of England as a semi pro entertainer, It was all good experience and I was only ever really a phonecall away from the next musical adventure.
   But one song has followed me everywhere! THE BONNIE BLUE ! I learned this song whilst playing Bass guitar in a West of Scotland based folk quintet called THE CUDDIES, Slang for a working horse, The singer of the band would employ bodhran accompanied Scottish battle songs to keep the momentum of the gig going while we would tune up or change strings. It made for a seamless show and kept the audience focused, I sang it when I became lead vocalist with THE WHISKEY DEVILS folk group. People liked it and asked to hear it so I complied, Next I joined a band called Clannandrumma, The bleakest period in my career and again somehow the Bonnie Blue accompanied me after I sang it on the cobbled streets of Auld Reekie . AKA. Edinburgh I sing it with ALBANNACH now and sang it a couple of times in THE CHANTYWRASSLERS, Add to that countless sessions in pubs and festivals, Even a stage production of Mary Queen of Scots where I was hired to play a Scottish Sennachie, BARD / SHAMAN and add atmospheric drum beats on my heavily mic,d bodhran. Then came the time I finally recorded the song, I was playing a bar somewhere, It might have been my hometown and in saunters a chapter of The Blue Angels Motorcycle club, I know a lot of the boys and have attended  many of their parties, not for people of a timid disposition who lack stamina, and on the spur of the moment I sing The " Bonnie Blue Angels are after you! Bearded heads turn and applaud and they commision 100 copies on the spot! This is not availible anywhere, You have to be a patch wearing member of the club to own a copy. Will I ever release it with new artwork ? Depends if I can get the permission of Ronnie Browne of The Corries, My version was for a bike club and not for resale, Ronnie is an artist who inspired me to become a performer in the first place and having had music and artwork used and never given the credit for creating it I would have grave misgivings about using someone else,s work without permission.
  The appeal of the song ? It,s a damn fine piece of writing and there are some sinister vocal patterns in it ! Especially the lines.

To boast ones deeds becomes us ill!
But Scotland has her borders still.
Though there,s some would love to kill.
A land of thought and learning.
The Roman legions tried in vain!
Saxons Aye and Vikings came.
Nain of them could us contain!
So heed this gentle warning.

  Brilliant song and I,ll nver tire of singing it! Another one that I love to sing is THE WALLACE. My late father told me all the William Wallace stories he knew and told me! " If you ever have children tell them about Wallace and The Bruce because you wont learn of them in school! He was right, Then Mel Gibson immortalised Wallace in Braveheart. I especially love singing the lines "

With a crown made of thorns he was tortured.
For setting his own country free.
How am I a traitor ? Cried Wallace!!!!
When England is foreign to me!

 You have to visualise an in all probability starving abused  man, before he even reached his " Ahem " trial alone in chains wearing a ridiculous crown of thorns on his head " A sarcastic way of letting him know that King Edward had heard of Wallace saying that he would wear a crown in London one day. How would Wallace have felt as he was dragged from west minster abbey and handed over to a baying crowd who beat him almost to death,after stripping him naked Then tied headdown behind two horses and dragged to his place of execution being beaten every step of the way through the thronged London streets, It was a public vacation apparently, To sing a song convincingly you have to be able to emphasise with the subject matter, I like to think that maybe my father hears me sing it and knows that with the aid of a mic and Kyles drums Wallace is still being sung about to Scots everywhere.

Have a great day wherever you are in the world.
DAVYTHESCULPTOR.

PS. Sarah The self portrait sculpture of your Auld Da here is in the advanced planning stages now, I,ll look suitably magnificent and brooding as a head and shoulders terracotta bust Hmmm LOL. Should get it done after summer tour.

ART, SCULPTURE AND MUSIC JOURNAL.

GOOD DAY.
  And how are you? Seems my PORK CHOP SHEET has fired a few imaginations judging from a few emails I,ve recieved since blogging yesterday. One question was could I draw a " flash sheet " if provided with ideas for the designs? No problem but it would be after the summer tour and before the autumn tour though.  Boudicca is looking really good though even though I had to work listening to the Alvin and the chipmunks soundtrack that the Wee man considerately replaced the Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers cd I was listening to with!
    I spent years buying tattoo magazines and books, studying drawing styles and trying to reproduce them, I drew on anything I could lay hands on, Paper towels at work! Easily concealed from supervisors! I practised tattooing using a spare tattoo machine  on pigskin procured from a local butcher shop. It worked well, Then the day came when I put the word on the street that I was looking for people with old india ink home made tattoo,s that needed covering up for just the price of the materials. I used to tattoo on a monday evening from a room in my parents house. It was kind of fun watching the black lines appearing, but after a couple of years I realised that I loved tattooing more than it loved me and hung up my machines, I would come out of retirement every couple of years and do a tattoo, usually on a pal who just wanted a Davy Ramone tattoo, No matter how rough it might look. I wasnt a great tattooist, Last tattoo,s I did were a couple of years ago in Vivid ink studios Knoxville Tennessee on Rob Stewart ,Aya, and tattooists Matt and Scarlett, My first tattoo,s since 1991, It was a closing of a circle, sitting in a bright clean studio. No more tattoo,s from me.
   I have great memories of the Old school of tattooing, Of being tattooed in the Legendary Terry Wrigleys old studio on Glasgows London road. Terry was a great character and the feeling walking into his old style studio is one I,ll never forget, The smell of the disenfectant the flash covered walls and the ageing tattooist with the shock of white hair and piercing dark eyes! Terry never suffered fools gladly, But like most people if you treated him with respect he treated you the same way, It seemed to be a rite of passage getting your tattoo,s from Terry. I remember paying 20 pounds = 40 dollars for the shark that sits at the top of my right shoulder in 1984, It was re,outlined when I had the viking longship tattooed beneath it seven years or so later in Viking studio,s Dunstable England, Another great character named Brent. He stuck on a Stevie Ray Vaughn Cd and worked away for three hours solid, A great experience, I,ve been lucky with my tattoo,s and regret none only the placement of the viking head at the top of my back on the right hand side, It will eventually be covered up when my Odin backpiece is finished, But my life seems to be written on me in Tattoo ink, But thats cool, I dont know how many more I,ll get but I hope to get my arms redone and colored to freshen them up! The wee man is well aware of his Dads tattoo,s now and as long as he waits and makes informed tattoo decisions! Well it,s his body. Sadly now the edginess of being tattooed seems to have disappeared as there are so many shops, I had to stop watching Miami Ink as the sad litany of tattoo stories would leave me feeling depressed for the artists who had to listen, In days gone by a tattoo bearing the legend " In memory of " told me all I wanted to know. Maybe that looks callous but I was a learner tattooist not a psychiatrist. Tattoo,s marked us and told their own stories without us having to explain them.

HAVE A GREAT SAY WHEREVER YOU ARE IN THE WORLD.

Davythesculptor.

PS.. If anybody is interested in a Pork Chop sheet ? drop me a line.

ART SCULPTURE AND MUSIC JOURNAL.
                           TUESDAY.19th may.
GOOD DAY.
  How is everyone ? Slowly but inexorably slipping into Road Dave / Davey Ramone / Davythejakey / Davy the asshole mode. So many personalities LOL, Finishing work on a berserker commisioned through Rockahock, working away diligently on Boudicca drawing, This I find hard as I anylyse every line as this is a bought piece, The fact that the buyer is a friend and has already bought two other portraits doesnt make it any better, Boudicca has been a mass of gossamer thin pencil lines for weeks now and now the time has come to add the heavy defining lines, Wish me luck. But underneath the drawing white side up on the draughtsmans easel that I draw on is a huge Jeans advertisement Mrs Ramone thought I might " Jam on " Her expression, It,s been there so long now it had become part of the easel but today I glowered at it as I rubbed my neck " A sure sign of tension in me " I looked at the delicate lines of Boudicca and her daughters and thought " f..k it! A change of focus is needed here ! and grabbed the heavy sharpies that we accumulate at gigs on the road and started some stream of consciousness style drawing! First thing to emerge on the 4 foot by 2 foot white card board was a red eyed Berserker going nutz! Brilliant! Then the old expression " Pork chop sheet " came into my mind ! this if I remember correctly is the way some old school American tattooists described their flash sheets of designs that hung on the walls of their smoky shops! One old Geezer reputedly had seven on his walls each bearing the legend "  IF YA DONT SEE A DESIGN YA LIKE HERE! THEN YA DONT NEED A TATTOO IN THE FIRST PLACE!. This isnt verbatim but I became interested in tattooing in 1985 when you still had to order tattoo magazines from America! F..k I even had a signed first edition of Ed Hardy,s dragon flash book that came with a note wishing me all the best with my dream of tattooing. Sadly that was sold to a slob of a tattooist who,se Idea of class was showing photo,s of naked women " That he hadnt tattooed " on the walls of his scuzzy shop! Lets not call it a studio. ANGRY DAVE. Years later the boys in the band are all sporting Ed Hardy tshirts! I could only shake my head, Hardy was / is amazing though a real pioneer.
    So next on the Pork chop board was a skull with a scimitar throgh it with three banners below it bears the legend " DEATH BEFORE PICKLES! I hate pickles, Now my energy is at ludicrous levels and the board is fast becoming a demented ex tattooists vision of a flash sheet! It is a riot of colour and I,m now thinking as I scratch my bearded jaw! " you know I can see a cool frame roundabout this when it,s finished ! Latest piece of nonsense on the board is a number 13 pool ball that Colum " THE EASTERN FRONT IS CALLING OUT YOUR NAME " turned up on his walk this afternoon, Normally as a superstitious Scot I would have thrown this away! But one of the boys in BANDLAND let me off with 40 bangers that I owed him on a flute today, Just before the dog found the ball! So my latest flash design is a number thirteen poolball with a drawing of Colum above it! It never ceases to amazes the intensity of artistic inspiration! But as an old campaigner when it comes to art I,m able to close the channel and relax at a deent hour, as Pictiboy and I say " seven oclock and the shoes and socks are off for the day!! rather than manically drawing and sculpting into the early hours of the morning the way I did in Scotland in what seems a different lifetime.

HAVE A GREAT DAY WHEREVER YOU ARE IN THE WORLD.
Davythesculptor.

ART AND SCULPTURE JOURNAL.
GOOD MORNING.
  And how is everyone today, I,m glad to announce that Rabbie has arrived safely and so to has Thorfinn Skullsplitter, Now I can devote some time to my pencil portrait of Boudicca, Queen of the Iceni, Plus the third in the range of berserkers that I,m working on Ragnarr Raven feeder, This little guy has the " one way ticket to valhalla task of holding the war banner above his chieftains head, These guys would probably died quickly as opponents coveted the flags so much as trophies, My song Valhalla,s feast deals with a Viking / Berserker who dies holding the war banner above his lord in battle, leaving his sweetheart traumatised searching the hills and dales in search of him,
  The infamous Whiskey wenches have commisioned a portrait to, Although I can somehow see it being transferred onto flag format to flutter above their tent at festivals, Nikol took posession of her commisioned piece if sculpture last weekend at Rockahock festival Virginia. I,ll get the photo,s of The Morrigan aka Morrigana posted over the next few days.
  Woke up this morning with my new country style ballad in my mind, As is usual with me I must have sung it 50 times to embed it in my memory, By the time Mrs Ramone came in from work I had seemingly forgotten the melody, But this morning it was back like a faithful dog, I refrained from singing this tale of woe to my better half first thing this morning, As it,s miserable content is something that you have to brace yourself for, Although the Devil in me can now hear Dobro and double bass playing along with it, I may just see if the boys at Bluesalley will help me bring it to life later this year, It,s a dreadful hybrid of " Married by the bible, Divorced by the law! And one of those horrible songs like " Honey I miss you! Totally out of character for me to compose something like this! But when the muse descends it,s better not to argue with her! So for the rest of the day I,m not sure what I,ll do with myself. Torment the wee man! That is always a fun option! I know I said I,ve changed Jim, But I havent really.

HAVE A GREAT DAY WHEREVER YOU ARE IN THE WORLD.
Davythesculptor , And tormentor of his son. B,CAWWWW !