Bailey Hunter Robinson put this on me two weeks ago. The design is from 1906. We kept the size and line intact, and he shaded rather than colored (as is my preference).

Back in February I asked Steve Powers (ESPO) to draw a tattoo for me. He said, “where do you want it.” I said, “On my chest.”

The result of that exchange is a portrait of Albert Einstein with the words “Work + Play + K.Y.M.S = Success.”

It’s a fun tattoo, not so much because of the subject but because of Powers’ method. He assessed space… and with some humor. After all, he’s a graffiti artist. His intent was for my chest hair to grow back as Albert’s hair. You can be the judge of how well that has work.

Also, working closely with the “cool guy” industry, it feels something of an inside joke for me to have sort of randomly received an original piece of art (and yes, I have the drawing) from a guy that gets some much coverage in our sphere. It was done during the Super Bowl, an event I dislike for its corporate feel. Like many tattoos it ends up carrying a far greater story than the image itself might imply.

This one, however, does not. Another from the 1906 flash book of CV Brownell, done by Eric Eaton. I think the gray tone absolutely magnificent. It’s an anchor. I left the “Name” text from the original drawing… and here it is.

Eric himself is an extremely humble guy (sticking to the Keeping Your Mouth Shut philosophy) and has also produced my now magnificent owl studded right leg.

This little guy as an 8pm appointment for some color.

His buddy -

A nod to Maryland -

Got a bit more work to do, but it’s coming along.

Got this through this morning.

Tom, who is now working in Mexico, started the Community League with me roughly six years ago. We operate on a simple premise – a group of friends that all live in all corners of the world and share a passion for making rap music (even if it isn’t gold standard), aiding our communities, and supporting each others endeavors.

The trophy logo stems from a purchase I made in Milwaukee, WI on my 21st birthday. A trophy. The exact silhouette above, reading “MOST IMPROVED PLAYER IN THE COMMUNITY LEAGUE, Augustus Rufe, 1923.” I loved the inclusive nature of the award. And, it’s become representative of our brand of community.

I’m really chuffed that Tom decided to get the tattoo. I got mine 3 years ago… and we have made a few t-shirts for select folks with the image (originally done by BJ Betts).

In the previous incarnation of Black Lodges I mentioned the League a few times. It remains something I don’t often talk about or promote. (Almost everything we make – music, t-shirts, posters – is given away). But, today’s email with the above tattoo reminded me how much my little collective means to me.

Much love to Tom, Opp, Joe, Tim, and my brother, Christopher.

Judging.

Bloody odd thing to do. Something I avoid generally.

Yet, for the second time I will be judging at the New York City Tattoo Convention this weekend. Contests are an odd portion of the tattoo convention circuit. At once a celebration and a also inadvertently (or perhaps the opposite) creating a hierarchy in what has, by some sociologist, been referred to as a community gathering.

Sure, some tattoos are better than others. Some are, in fact, fucking glorious, while others are absolute shit. I have what I consider both of those extremes on my own body. I don’t think I’d have the balls to put any of them under the scrutiny of the convention contest judge – even if for two brief days every few years I am one of  those folks.

I enjoy the opportunity to clock some 1,500 or so tattoos in 3 hours in close quarters. The volume is incredibly important in developing my own eye. In understanding different conceptions of line and different shading technique. From that point of view there is nothing to loose.

But, it remains strange for me to be part of a team that bestows honor over one person, bearing the work of another, above all other attendees. Is it a required element of the tattoo community? Must there be stars in all sub-groupings?

I despise sneaker contests… which are more often than not predicated on who can spend the most or has the best connections. The love of these collectors might be the same as the kid that can only afford a single pair of Sambas, but the fracture in the community that results shifts perception of interest.

You are best if you can spend.

Good tattoos cost good money. So does good trim in your kitchen. Good meat on your plate. Good anything really.

I’m willing to except that.

I’m willing to except too, that people enjoy competition.

I just wish that competition and commerce weren’t so conflated. And, that competition and commerce didn’t work so well to fracture community.

This Friday’s rant brought to you by exhaustion.