Wednesday, 27 January 2010

My Current MOOD!

Looks like someone's gots their bitch on! SO step to me cause I might cut a bitch! Sleep has escaped me and my clock is all out of whack and I am not the one to be "*&^*%*$£*" with. My kingdom to turn the sprinklers on some noisy bratty kids.

Sunday, 24 January 2010

A Nail In The Coffin!

Once upon a time in in a far off land oh, past the waters of Gitcheygoomee, over the hills and through the woods say about 9342 miles east of London lived a hood rat named Chaka. Chaka was a pesky creature. You see cause he wrote his name on EVERYTHING! Now when I say everything, I mean EVERY GOD DAMMED THING! There were the tops of highway and freeway signs...Chaka, sides of industrial factory walls, Chaka. Once I went to take my trash out to my apartment dumpster, and oh yes it was there, Chaka. I swear it was like fucking herpes, you couldn't escape it, and it seemed to come up at the weirdest times and places. In short it sucked. It was ugly in an array of shapes and sized and never any really pleasing colours. There was even a Chaka driving game. If you saw that ugly tag you simply slugged your opponent in the arm and shouted "Chaka!" Now to call this fucker prolific is well, retarded to say the least. My apologies to those with mental and learning difficulties, cause this has no reference to you. But come on, it doesn't take a rocket scientist or a Rembrandt to scribble a freaking name on public, state, federal property, not to mention countless private property this shit head "tagged" his name and ruined in his wake. BIg whoop. He calls himself an Aerosolist, you'll excuse me while I pick my ass of the floor from laughing. SAY WHAT!
So legend goes that once this little whelp of minimum wage thinking was sentenced by a judge for damages of millions and millions of dollars to property, are you ready for this, he tagged his Chaka in the county court elevator What an idiot. Let's just say that he was lucky that I wasn't the judge. Cause sentencing would have gone like this. Daniel Ramos, you are here by sentenced to Moulii Muwaka Mulli,
(Let me just say it involves a proctologist, a chain saw and 12 pounds of Spam Luncheon Meat) and you are here by sentenced to place your hands on two wooden blocks where a hammer weighing over nine pounds will strike your hands to the amount of each state and county your have graffitied (each hand.) I also place you in custody of a she-male prison ward, cause those bitches should drive you nuts wanting to "make you" over for a minimum of eight years or till you work off the cost (en cured for all Judicial Court costs, State, Federal, and Private Property damaged) to remove each and every tag the full extent of the western portion of America. I am sure Mr. Ramos is kissing the church's ass to god, that I chose not to go into law.

Well, now he is having his first legitimate show. A whole Nineteen years after his sentencing, Merchant-Ivory films work at a faster pace. What the? This comes at a time when Bansky is releasing a movie. After looking at the trailer I had to ask myself what this movie was about. About Eighty-Five minutes to long that's what. I dunno, now this is age speaking and I am all for flipping the bird to the man. Yet surely there are other more legitimate ways to cause a stir than simply defacing a building that literally takes minutes to "throw up"? I mean look at Shepard Fairey, you don't see him wanted by the police and his vision is still pretty profound from the day he started and just as influential, sans the police after his ass. Well, that's if he's not trying to deceive a federal court and The Associated Press for copyright infringement. But still that's pretty impressive and in no way invalidates Fairey's voice as an artist. So what gives? So kids will go "Oh Hell to the Yeah, I need to scale buildings, (That Aren't Mine) and throw up a piece. This will be my meal ticket and fast track to fame. I mean I like some of Banksy's stuff and I know he's around my age. So when you start pulling shit like this it gets a lot harder to be taking seriously. Are your listening there Mr. Daniel Ramos. Kinda like Lindsey Lohan Movies, yes you laugh when your like 12, but come 37 you start to tell yourself this is some unfunny bullshit and find it irritating to simply follow. And kids, please you might want to fucking raise the stakes in questioning what your dream ticket is, otherwise you'll sound like those silly people on American Idol when their dream is squashed. On second thought, hmmm. Banksy's movie comes across like a Jackass parody, and I expected more and better from him especially at his age. I am no voice of reason but, I find better stuff to do in the middle of the night than run the risk of getting my ass, tazzed, shot, clobbered, or worse stabbed for a little infamy. The voice of an artist is something that will always be critiqued by those around him, especially those whom don't really make art, which to me is bullshit. I don't see the point in climbing walls to go Tagging. I have asked four" graffiti artists' at one point or another to do something in front of the shop and let me see the sketch beforehand, all failed in simply doing the drawing. Dunno? Maybe its like this, it's only fun when you're chasing the drug. It's the ritual not the actual money shot that appeals to most of these guys. Seeing some of Chaka's paintings I thought to myself 19 years and you painted this. Um, Mr. Ramos, we have Axel Rose on the phone and he wants to know if you'll join him for "The what took you so fucking long, and it's still shit benefit luncheon?" Oh and guess whom we have here? Yep! Merry Christmas.

Music That Shaped Me!

X were always a big influence on me. They sang of decay, glamour that has lost its youth, and stars losing their shine deep in the basin that was Hollywood and Los Angeles. It's where I wanted to be.
Amongst the broken and the dreamers, sounded like heaven to a plucky snot nosed brat from the bowel of Orange County. It was years later that I would move to the promise land and have a few run-ins, with Exene in her treasure trove shop, "You Got Bad Taste". Still when I hear this music it takes me back and I can smell the beer on the floor, the piss emanating from the men's toilet over at Hong Kong Cafe on a late friday night spending my wages on cheep boose and a good time. Yeah, baby, yeah! Somethings never change and that makes me smile. It was when I was twenty- five, that I professed my love for X by tattooing their logo, an Eld English X on my left side of my neck. X had it all and to this day I still love them like no other band.

Thursday, 21 January 2010

My Dream Tattoo List!

I had an interview a few days ago and was asked whom I would like to tattoo, and for the first time in a long time I was quiet. Which is strange cause I have a big fucking mouth. I am always yapping and I myself was at a loss for words. Aye Caramba!
So I pondered and asked my partner whom I liked. I broke out in a cold sweat cause I never thought about it, I was always to busy tattooing people all the time to think, of who. Then I just took a trip into my own psyche and actually thoughtlong and hard. My list of who'ld I would like to get all buck wild with will never happen cause it's a fantasy and that is a different porno in a another dvd player. So you pesky lil pervs will just have to wait one day, that's what death beds are for. So I sat down for a solitary moment and wondered, whoo the hell would I like to tattoo. And then it hit me and the names came pouring out. So I posted these list along with my reasons. In no particular order. But I have my reasons and my reasons are my own.

1.) Dolly Parton- Cause I would like to squeeze her boobs (I know she;ld let me) and try on one of her wigs and sing a song with her after I tattooed her. And mayber get a picture of her with Joleene.

2.) Charo- Same as Dolly's and hear cuchi Cuchi in my shop, I'ld probably pass out from such glamour

3.) Vivienne Westwood- Need I say More

4.) Josh Homme- HOT, HAWT, My Get Outta Jail Card. Smokin, But i love my guy Bren so it'll never happen, even though he is straight! WOO HOO! A close second would be Jesse Hughs of Eagles Of Death Metal.. And they rock!

5.) Tom Waitts- This guy would give me a first class lesson in cool, and think he is amazing!

6.) Nick Cave-Man is a true artist. Like Mr. Waitts, a true maverick.

7.) Pj Harvey- Had my photo taken by Maria Mochnacz, her best mate, but I love this womans voice.

8.) John Waters- cause I think he's got great taste in music and just a funny guy and always love his films.

9.) Richard Prince- I love his work and think he's just a great artist. Plus he's a fan of Sonic Youth not to shabby.

10.) Joel Peter Witkin- My favorite photographer whose ex-wife was a tattooist, so fingers crossed I would be a shoe in. Although I wasn't a fan of her work myself but she tattooed his photographs.

11.) Nan Goldin_-Another favorite photographer whose work always gets me. Real human portraits.

12.) Tom Ford- Cause you know it would give him some dirty street cred, which I think he longs for. No one can be that prestine and handsom 24/7.

13.) Will Self- I love his writing and think the guy is pretty funny.

14.) Prince Harry- AKA Prince Hot Ginge. Cause me may have one already.

15.) Blondie's Deborah Harry- She's just it and way cool.

Tied with Robert Crumb, casue as a little boy I loved his drawings and ruined my dad Janis Joplin and Big Brother album by looking at the sleeve.

Why I Think Wim Delvoye Should Be Forced Fed Pork Products WITH LARD And Porked Without Vaseline!

I have seem them ages ago, I am sure you have too. Yet It makes me angry that someone would do something like this to an animal. It's bad enough that gang members tattoo their dogs to claim ownershop and proclaim their barrio. Big fucking whoop.

Yet this jack ass whom is a vegitarian, whom tattoos pigs in China where animal cruelty restrictions are far less rigourous than the rest of the world. Who is a conceptual artist. I have a concept. Someone film me repeatedly kicking Wim directly and firmly in the crack of his ass. Ok I eat meat, yes, but I am not going to tattoo a pig or my dog and call that art! Especially since this moron isn't actually tattooed himself. And when is tattooing Louis Vuittonlogos on pigs considered a good idea? Oh yeah, it's a nice idea to do it to some poor creature whom has no free will and what is even more insulting is that he has someone else do the work. Damien Hirst on line one, wants to pickle the pig after he cuts in half and stick it in a box. Wow! Get on to Charles Saatchi and tell him it's free champagn he might buy one of your pigs.

A tattooed pig is not art, sorry. Now if you want to talk about art. The Yakuza preserve their skins of the family's and the artists work whom are affiliated with the certain family, creating an archive to the family ink One Yakuza Family has to stay with one artist, thems the rules. Now that is impressive. Why cause the person did this of his own volition, free will and has a conviction to give himself over. Much like the men of MS13 they are completely covered but are moving targets. Wim should be force fed lard loaded pork products and "porked" in the no no by his gaggle of pigs, DRY! Hell Yeah I said it. This is just wrong. For some reason Peta must have missed the boat with their Ink not mink campaign when it comes to Wim. I swear I am getting my bitch on when it comes to this idiot. Hey asshole if you want to have any shred of decency for the craft of tattooing. I propose you either stop tattooing these lovely creatures you don't eat, but are so willing to put through a process and pain they do not understand. Do not sedate them, and tattoo your mother or former ex-girlfriend or lack there of.

While I am at it, you tattoo without wearing gloves. WTF! Your a brave and stupid SOB. Hell yeah isaid it. This is so wrong, and I don't care if I sound like I am on a soap box, Its shit like this that gives tattoos a fucking novel reputation, fun for the moment, when the person doing this has no actual fucking respect for the craft it's self when he won't commit to doing so with is own body. When I was I kid we had a name for people like this. What was it? My Alzhiemers is kicking in, wait, oh yeah, poseur.

If I had it my way, I would call those dudes from rescue ink to kick your ever loving ass and hold you down against your will and tattoo the words "DICKLESS DORK!" all over your body you pussy! Someone slap me I feel my gay rage coming on. I need to sit down and breath and kiss my dog on the snout. Urgh! I need to smack this punk b**ch. Do the words Suiee mean anything to you? Probably not.

Untitled: Tattoo Art Kicks Fine Arts Ass!

Cover Of Spin Magazine with Madame Winehouse tattoos by Moi Henry Hate! Photo: Terry Richardson

Painting: By Tattoo Artist Paul Booth
Artist Alexandra Spualding with sleeve done by me Henry Hate on Painting based on Russian Artist Alex Timofeev

I wish I could say I am drunk while writing this and that I have a bone to pick with those whom view what I do as insignificant. How can a tattoo artist know the difference between a Modigliani from a Rubens, to Francis Bacon? Yet, I am stone cold sober and not angry at those whom view my body of work as, well, insignificant. I can shrug my shoulders smile and simply reply with a hardy, EAT ME! Yes you read right and I typed it. For years as I have gone on my journey as a “Tattoo Artist”, been met with a varying range of intrigue, fascination, and indifference. I am met with scorn from the “Art” world, and some from strangers on the street, and even from my own mother. Whose only made me relish what I do to a greater appreciation and understanding.
The standard response about my own tattoos is, “what am I going to do when I apply for a job?’ The big finnish is followed by, “why would you put your self through so much pain and do that to yourself?” This is where I am confronted with the world at large and everyones different perceptions of what they really do not understand. So I smile and normally validate their prejudgement with some sort of juicy sordid lie or outright fabrication. Something to give them to talk about over dinner with whom ever. I let their imaginations and Japanese whispers run amok. Pretyy cool, huh? It’s fair to say that my tattoos have made a greater lasting impression without its actual intent.
Gregory Comic by MArc Hempel tatooed By Henry Hate.

People are always put off by what they actually do not understand. When Gallery Owners see some of my work I am discredited, simply because a tattoo artist can not be a fine artist. To low brow. Not enough pedigree or academia to qualify as a real artist. So I will clarify a few things that may bring those whom do not have a clue into the loop. Tattoo art has been around longer than any of the Damien Hirst’s or Andy Warhol’s ever were. Long before Leonardo Di Vinci decided to put pigment to brush and create the masterpiece’s he is renowned for. Cultures have placed ink well beneath their skin in an act of defiance, rite of passage, ritualistic anointing of one’s place in their community, to simply professing their undying love and stating their relationship status, this also goes with where their social status was on the food chain.
Tattoo By Beuna Vista Social Club

What most forget is that the canvas’s I use speak, have human emotions, and grant memories to those around them and the places that they inhabit. My canvases make music, make people laugh, even cry. Are you listening Picasso? My canvas’s span a famous neo- soul singer from Edmonton, with gravity defying hair, to the garden caretaker of a much loved London park. My art is covered up at times, displayed at the most intimate moments, to being noticed on the street by the passerby, without my canvas even realizing they are being viewed or maybe appreciated. The influences of my work span from classical artist’s Gustave Dore, Sergei Chepik, Russian Tole painting, Joan Miro, Jean Cocteau down to Jean Michelle Basquiat, Marcel Duchamp and Keith Haring. However impressive this array may be, it’s not for the novice tattoo artist to take on without
discipline, skill and a true genuine love for all art.
Tattoo By Henry Hate

If you look at Keith Harrings work it's very tribalistic. Warhol's early stuff basid on comics and graphic commercial art. Nothing wrong with that. It was a bitch slap to my face when the dean of my art school said only 3 percent would make money at their art. Great out of 87 new students, that meant one guy and one girl. The third one would have great talent and a promising career and get hit by a bus long before he/she ever got the chance to rake it in. My brain thougt this sucks and need to do something about it. Because I have been fired from the most mundane jobs to the trivial fodder that most people find themselves locked in. Working in a book shop in a museum was not on my goals list. Sorry. I once went to a business do for the local business's in the area when my studio is located, as I was invited by the organization in hopes of joining and becoming a member. In short they wanted my money and my street cred, whatever that means. Upon socializing with the suits I was greeted by the dreaded question of, "what do you do for a living?" One jerk said, "good luck with that" in the most condesending manner. i swear I wanted to rip his head off and crap in his lungs. For a moment I was looked as if I did something like flip burgers and no relevance to what he did. So I replied in kind, "What do you do other than make your boss more money than you'll ever see asshole?" Revenge is better than Christmas. He said nothing and walk away with his tail between his legs.
The term art is the ability to convey a dialogue or message using a visual platform to get a point across. Hand over heart, I do believe my work conveys that in droves. Tattoo artists are no longer perceived as a criminal element, or affiliated with undesirables. After all unlike the Young British Artists of the 90’s, tattoo artists dedicate not only their efforts, mind and free time perfecting their craft. They dedicate their bodies. For me it’s not about the money or the lifestyle that is perceived to be an attraction to many young people via reality TV. You must learn a time honored art, a skill, that can take you the world over and still find a canvas to work on. You can not be a reclusive artist and be a success as a tattooist, but we both work at our own pace. Unlike some artists whom create a body of work and hope to sell it via an agent or Gallery and loose a cut through fee’s and commissions. My work is approached by those whom ask me to do the work on them of their own free will. Commissioned. No middle man, no art agent to argue with and no Charles Saatchii waving his wallet at my work announcing it is worthy via his bank account.
My Bed By Tracey Emin aka "Jesus lady clean up your mess!"

Like that of the work of Tracey Emin, my work is a confessional to the person I am working on. I have to tell a story about them or what they want to say. Giving a small glimpse into the life of my canvas, shrouded in mystery and making them a point to have an interaction. But my main work I suppose would be based social taboos. Taboos ranging from sexual, to political and personal that run through my work, much to the chagrin of my parents. Although typically I do not work in a office, it is the office worker whom has my work. Sometimes unbeknownst to his employer. How cool is that?
Dollar Sculture Cutting By Tattoo Artist Scott Campbell

By no means am I under them impression that what I do is for everyone to fully understand. Like when I see the piece “An Oak Tree” by Michael Craig-Martin, I don’t see a riveting piece of art or a stellar masterpiece. I simply see my bathroom shelf and my toothpaste gargle glass. Tracey Emin’s “My Bed”, some alcoholic skanky broad’s unkept bed in desperate need of clean sheets and some bed wetting issues. But that is just my opinion. They’re are tattoo artists whom are turning the tide and showing works that are both beautiful and thought provoking in galleries. From New York artists Scott Campbell’s dollar pieces to Paul Booth’s macabre visuals of a darker side of the soul, Juan Puente’s Photography from around the world.
When I was a child I saw a reproduction of Michelangelo’s Leda And The Swan, at a museum my mother took me to. I was mesmerized. Each time we visited that museum I always insisted on seeing that painting, she must have heard warning signals going off in her own head. I drew on the walls like any other typical kid, when there was no paper to draw on. When there were no walls to draw on I drew on my brother. Unlike our graffiti cousins whom have a much easier time entering the gallery space, tattoo artists are still a pace behind graffiti artists. At least with tattooists we don’t go traipsing through peoples flower beds or scale tall buildings in the middle of the night to throw up a piece, without the building owner’s consent I might add. How rude. The professional tattoo artist is part confessional therapist, doctor, bartender, local clergy to the infidel and heretic, and circus carny performer and at times a sound board. We engage and interact with out subjects, immerse our selves in their world for a little while, building a trust and a common ground that stays forever.
Banksy's parody of Damien Hirst. If you ask me what I think, you seriously don't want to pull at that thread. So don't go there.

It’s not as if we are solving world peace or splitting the atom. But it’s strange that my work can start a bidding war with the tabloids and the paparazzi to get the all important first shot of the celebrity tattoo for their publication. That price out weighs my own
fee of what they paid for the tattoo in the first place, valuing it much like the Jay Jopling brokers of the art world. I could sell the image outright, but doing so would betray my clients trust in, their privacy and consideration for simply treating them as I would anyone else. So I do my work and when I have something to say I approach my tools and decide what I want to say. First and foremost I need to say something if it’s in regards to someone commissioning me to say something for them in the best of my ability, or that I have a vision and need to convey in my own words. I like that feeling, and I love what I do.
It’s a demanding career, you need a thick skin and a discipline to understand people, because they entrust us with their bodies.
Strapping Young Lad, Lambda Print By Henry Hate 2009
Fine art isn’t just limited to the gallery spaces, and to the mediums of sculpture, painting or photography, or performance. Historically it also pertained to engraving and etchings. and pretty much that is what a tattoo is. Formed in painstaking hours for the world to view with a love and a discipline that not everyone will ever really know or truly understand. I take comfort in that. Even in the exchange in the jokes and private conversations between me and my canvas. It's so much more.
Brian Clough Portrait By Henry Hate

Knowing that my body of work is here for a short while but lingers on in the memories of others through stories of brief encounters, to the declaration of unconditional love, to someone proclaiming that they have overcome something that was a painful memory and allowed me to help them with it. That my friend is an honor. Tattoo artists should be proud of the historical and cultural influence that tattooing has entrenched and presented to the world. No longer a back alley haven or even a dirty word. TAttoo Artists arn't under the harsh scrutiny of Art Critics, especially when most tattoo artists don't have assistants doing the work when they themselves should be using their hands and imagination in unison. I always think that Tattoo Art is something that has been around like the world's oldest profession and I get a kick out of that too. So in your face Snooty Suit Critic. So with that, yeah Tattoo Art can kick Fine Arts ass, and I tell you what i bet you we’ld have a better party too. Come to think of it I might have that drink now. To all my friends, I raise my glass, whom taught me how to do what I do and give me the inspiration to carry on. Now, let’s party and make it a double!

Saturday, 16 January 2010

Current MOOD!


I haven't smacked a Bitch all week, but this makes me smile. But like all highs it eventually wears off.


Tuesday, 12 January 2010

Toot Toot Hey Beep Beep!

Remeber the good old days in the sexual revolution when you could just have sex with whom ever? Safe sex meant locking the fucking door. The simple days of rolling over that strange one night stand on the way to the toilet and call that lovin. Ahh memories. The times my friends they are a changing, and like the information highway the progress of prudes goes with it. Thrid base isn't coping a feel anymore, it's a blow job. And remember when a blow job was $50 bucks, two dinners and a watch? The good ol days, wel for me anyways. Leaving some sluts to hold the dinner check unpaid, while fat cats in Washington have basically eating all the evidenece, after pigging out at the all you can eat butt-fey. Shame. Washington's District Of Colombia is now considered a "Prostitution Free Zone" an oxy moron if I ever heard one. I ain't ever heard of a free prostitute.
Shit, ho's got to eat and nothing is going on but the mother fucking rent, so divey up or it's straight to the news papers.

According to a new police enforcement task force anyone whom walks around with more than three condems could be arrested on "intent to sell sex". Like a said so much for being responsible sexualy active adult. Your now branded a whore if your caught with these little raincoats on your person. But I mean come on, guys did you forget that condems are sold in packs of three? I don't think it's really the prossies fault because this is a simple case of the "who came first chicken/egg" scenario. Believe me I think the horny chicken wanted to difinately come first. This really could open a whole new can of worms cause other cities want to follow suit. So this is where the there goes the neighbourhood fits nicely. There used to be some prossies whom worked up on Westbourne Grove and they were your typical roadside whores at about £25 quid a pop for a suck. I always wondered why they didn't doll themselves up like the whores of Hollywood, I mean they sparkeld, spanked and had loads of slap on. You know me I am all about the show.

I honestly feel there is no shame in legalizing sex workers. It would be about time. Cut to the chase, squeeze out the middle man. Give the girl a break as long as she was responsible and licensed and checked regularly, who's she really hurting? I really don't buy all that it degrades women feminist bullshit. Cause it was always a woman who was at the height of a sex ring ( Cynthia Payne, Mayflower Madam, Madame Alex, Hiedi Fliess, etc) to some of the most powerfull men in the world. If you asked me these were some very smart and shrewed broads. Sure she made her money but as long as the law books were written by men, she would be on the outs. I propose a million whore march or maybey slut pride. Now that would make great television of only to watch what they are wearing.