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Shotsie Gorman

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Blog Entries posted by Shotsie Gorman

  1. Shotsie Gorman
    SPOOKY
    What I loved, really was
    my memory of him.
    Francis, was my mothers youngest brother.
    But reflecting now I realize
    I knew Butch more by the artifacts of his life.
    My feelings were almost archeological
    After twenty years of separation
    As the facts of his death were
    related to me- by his sister sobbing
    over a crackling phone connection.
    “The prison lost his ashes in transit.”
    missing the irony, she wept.
    “It was UPS they said, those bastards!”
    bruised out on the static connection
    Butchy’s
    ashes
    to be dusted over the
    race track
    like his life lost in transit.
    Spooky, Casper the Ghost’s comic,
    bad boy other self-was India ink etched into his
    right bicep.
    First e mano by an old South Paterson Gumba
    Who owed Butch a gambling debt
    Settled as he carved him a
    Spooky tattoo.
    Jabbed in by three sewing needles tied
    together with thread one poke at a time.
    “Fuck you!” Butch said each time
    keeping the rhythm
    of
    the
    blood
    beaded
    jabs.
    Spooky was to be
    sharpened black
    and reshaped,
    It’s fedora cocked off kilter
    by me.
    In an attempt
    to revisit
    our family connection.
    Buzzing my heavy tattoo machines in the dim light
    of a sleazy Florida pool hall and beer joint.
    Listening to do-wop.
    Watching the blood drop.
    I dreamed
    in the still
    of that night
    splashed with his red Neapolitan
    feverish with the knowledge
    that it ran in my veins.
    Slurred me to sleep
    with tears for
    his suffering.
    Kneeling
    before the image of him
    Impaled on the x of his life
    And his faux tortoise shell
    hair brush, left behind,
    filled with stands of
    brillcreamed black hair
    and dandruff.
    Sitting on his
    high boy
    blond dresser
    with the loose change
    of his life spilling out
    Like an offering
    below the spooky plaster Jesus head
    with the concave eyes that followed
    my every move.
    END
    Let me know what you think!

  2. Shotsie Gorman
    "A CONVERSATION WITH
    SHOTSIE GORMAN"
    "Only the most mnd blowing seminar I have ever atended"
    "I left there so inspired I couldn't wait to apply the ides to my work"
    " My third eye was pulled open"
    " I had no idea a tattoo seminar could be this exciting"
    These are the quotes from people who have spent on hour of their time in "A CONVERSATION WITH SHOTSIE GORMAN"
    What is this conversation?
    This seminar is unlike anything you have ever experienced. During the discussion Shotsie seems to unravel the mysteries surrounding the creative life and put them back together in a manner that you can actually use in your daily life!
    Shotsie covers so much ground it feels like a roller coaster of thought.
    Visually a feast for the eyes the slide show is accompanied by a dialogue with the source of all creativity.
    You can leave this experience knowing you have new tools to work with in your persuit of the best quality art work you have always deisred to make.
    Tap into the 32 years of creative experience with one of the tattoo communites legends.
    This is not a technical or mechanical seminar, although new creative techniques are passed over and
    the mechanics of the creative process revealed before your very eyes.
    The most often heard statement from other tattooist who have attended is." I never thought I would experiance something like this at a tattoo convention seminar!"
    at Blue lake Convention and Tattoos and Blues Santa Rosa!
  4. Shotsie Gorman
    La Dolce Vita
    The egg yolk in my dish looks so orange to me, almost bloody, I can't help but wonder how many tattoo travelers pass though this place and do not notice how rich in color it all is. I stare at it, flopped over the darkest green asparagus I have seen in a long time. The smell of aged parmesan cheese wafts through my nostrils; I am in heaven.
    As I eat, I consider the white of the egg is almost as pure a color as that of the tiles that cover the walls and floor of the Restaurant Diana--a stark yet warm eatery that sits midway between the tattoo expo site and the town center on the Via Independenza, the main thoroughfare and traffic filled artery that courses with the transient life of Bologna (Pronounced "Ba-lone-ya").
    Lunch time in Italy starts at 1:00 PM and runs through until 3:00 PM. The Italians take their tattooing, family, friendships, and eating time very seriously, and everything closes during lunch time except the trattorias (Small informal family style restaurants) and the restorantes (Fine and expensive ones).
    I fill my stomach, then follow the shop lined Independenza south. It leads me to the heart and soul of Bologna--the Piazza Maggiore, saddled by the Piazza Nettuno, two large open squares that dominate the cultural life of the place. They are near a football field in size. Here people gather all day, but incredibly, on Sunday mornings I have witnessed it filled to capacity. People hug and kiss, talk of life, laugh and cry and talk some more.
    Yes they talk to each other, an idea of community long since lost to America. We did at one point in history have our downtown areas where families would shop, walk, and talk of life, where politicos would converse on soap boxes and rant of government corruption and where small local tattoo shops would be open. We no longer have the human contact here. We have been emotionally nullified by the mall. That is why I think so many of us that travel to tattoo events around the globe: miss the real color.
    I guess the closest thing America has to the piazza now is the internet, albeit sterilized from human physical contact. Even our major tattoo events have been increasingly distant in human terms, and less of a feeling of camaraderie exists now among the attendees than in the past. They have become, it seems, no more than a moving mall of tattoo merchandise.
    That feeling of tattoo family could be rekindled for you if you attend the next Expo here in Bologna. I certainly felt it in attendance at the third annual 1995 Tattoo Expo. For three days in December people and artists converge on the Palazzzo Dei Congressi. This spanking new building of twenty years houses one of Europe's best tattoo conventions. Its interior reflective of grand '70s expectations. It has sloping white ceilings and a huge, open, and warm-toned foyer that affords a view of the whole show as you walk in. My only real complaint as a participant in the Expo is that, while the Italians have held onto more human traditions than we, they are not hip to our ideas about health. People all seem to have two cigarettes in their hands. Not much ventilation was to be had either, making the overheated working conditions a bit rough on the eyes throat and lungs. Through the billows of smoke, the mass of people flashed their pictures and talked a lot while hugging and kissing. The crowd pushed in, and filled every possible inch of space in the hall. The color of life and tattooing in Italy could be seen everywhere you looked.
    Event organizer and host Marco Leoni, a well known figure for the past eleven years at American conventions, who looks suspiciously like the portrait of Caravaggio, the Venetian painter whose face dominates the front of the 100,000 Lira bill. (about $63 US) is running, the night before the event, in true entrepreneurial fashion. Buzzing around waving his hands in the air, barking Italian curses. While the floors of the Pilazzo Dei Congressi are being covered with gray felt to resist the onslaught of 8000 members of the public that cram into the show in its three-day run, the booths for the tattoo artists and exhibitors are being assembled. On the second floor, Luca, of Body Decorators Tattooing, in Bologna and his cohorts, including Gippi Rondinella, author of Mark Of Cain, from Rome, are putting together an interesting exhibition of tattooist paintings, traditional tattoo materials, and exploration photos from the South Pacific, India, and Asia.
    I can sense there is plenty of excitement in the Palzzo Dei Congressi and the old town tonight for this year's Expo. Posters, the main method of youth communication in Italy, are plastered on every available space, shouting out Expo! The small town is vibrating with the coming Christmas holiday, the streets are lit up with all sorts of fanciful decorations. To be sure, before and after the Tattoo Expo, there will be a feast for the eye and plenty of things to do.
    This predominantly medieval city of Bologna, was in the 13th century one of the ten largest cities in Europe. It was then called Bologna "La Dotta," the learned. Its university to this day considered to be the leading institution on European law. At the mouth of the main drag the, Via Independenza, or Street Independence, so named because of Bologna's ability to remain independent from its much wealthier and stronger neighbors, such as Florence, sits the vast open square that is the Piazza Nettuno. Just to the right of the Piazza Maggiorie, or Major Square. The physical center of the city and its activity, as it must have been in Roman times. It is now surrounded by buildings that include, at the south end a grand gothic structure called the Basilica Di San Pietro, and the palace of the notaries, including The Palzzo Bianchi, the first permanent site of the university; The Palazzo Del Podesta, with it's Medieval bell tower, and the soaring Gothic interior of the Basilica di San Pietro.
    Are you looking to really understand the meaning of gothic design for your art? Well, here it is. All together they create an awe-inspiring scene. Towering in the first square, the Piazza Neptuno you can find the fountain statue that commemorates it's name. The Neptune Fountain, built and designed by a Florentine based Artist named Giambologna. Neptune is in grand scale and its base has bronze mermaids unabashedly squirting water from their breasts into the pool
    below. Everywhere you look there are inspirations for new tattoo designs, the place is alive with art.
    Another amazing aspect of this walking town of Bologna are the porticoes that cover every sidewalk. Arched roofs cover every path; each sidewalk is tiled and lined with shopping of every description, from the finest of shoes and leather to dazzling jewelry shops, making it pleasant even in the worst of wet weather. When you come here next year, don't miss the "Due Torri," Two Towers. Bologna has its own version of the leaning tower, except their are two and both are leaning toward each other in a potential Italian embrace. The one that was built in 1109 by the Aisinelli family is available to climb and provides a breathtaking view of the city and surrounding hills.
    One thing you need not concern yourself with in Italy is food. Since the 13th century Bologna has also been called" La Grassa," or "the fat." Consider that lasagna, tortelloni, tortelline, and spaghetti la Bolognese, really ragu, or meat sauce and of course bologna (pronounced "Ba-lone-ee"), better known in Italy as mortadella, were all invented here. Bologna is considered by many in the world the gastronomic capital of Italy. Most folks don't go out to eat until after 8:00 PM so there is no need to fret when coming out of the
    show at 11:00 PM. Directly opposite the congresso is the Pizza Pino a monstrous pizza and pasta joint. There will be plenty of food to choose from. I have twelve more pounds on to prove it.
    Excursions to some of the greatest Italian cities are also within easy reach by train. Access to the world's greatest collections of art are less than two hours away. In fifty-
    five minutes you can be in Florence and visit the Ufizzi Gallery, filled with high Renaissance art, including Botticelle's "Birth of Venus" (or "Venus on a half shell" as Americans call her). To the north in less than two hours by train lies Venice, and the gondola ride of your life.
    Tattooing has exploded in here the past ten years since Gorgio Ursini organized the first tattoo exhibition in Rome. As a result there are tattoo shops in every major city in Italy. All of the artists are happy to meet and share ideas with foreign travelers. Lest we forget where Machiavelli was born and think the tattoo community here is in some fairy tale place, let's say it is not without its color wars. There is a contentious international school of tattooing just getting started in Florence. With good reason, this is causing a major rift in the tattoo scene. Perhaps the time is right for an APT extension in Europe. Certainly tattooing cannot continue to be unorganized in the world and flourish.
    My advice is don't miss Tattoo Expo next year. And while you are in between the tattoo expo events, look up from your plate of eggs and see the beauty and grace of Italy. There is an old saying: "Every artist steals his ideas, but the sign of a great artist is whom he steals from." Here you can steal from the best.
    The End
  5. Shotsie Gorman
    Shotsie Gorman First North American Serial Rights
    19 Capstan Road About 545 Words
    West Milford, NJ 07480 Copyright 1995 Shotsie Gorman
    201-728-1150
    "HAVE IT, AND THEY SHALL COME"
    If incredibly beautiful women, dark handsome men, the most delicious meals on the planet, thousands of years of art, excitement, and one of Europe's best tattoo convention does nothing for you, then read no further.
    This past December, organizer and host Marco Leoni, presented his third annual three day event at the Palazzzo Dei Congressi in the city of Bologna (said "Ba-lone-ya") in northern Italy. "Have it, and they shall come", and in they came, approximately 8000 members of the public, and tattoo artists from around the planet.
    On the main floor all the tattoo artists, and exhibitors booths were buzzing. On the second floor, Luca, of Body Decorators Tattooing, in Bologna and his cohorts, including Gippi Rondinella, author of Mark Of Cain, from Rome, put together an interesting exhibition of paintings, traditional tattoo equipment, and exploration photos from the South Pacific, India, and Asia.
    It's too bad the Italians are not hip to the rest of the worlds ideas about health. It seemed like people had two cigarettes in hand. Considering that it was, as cold as a witches tit in a tin bra outside, the overheated, and smoky working conditions were rough on the artists. There were compensations, such as: the hottest looking babes getting tattooed, people who truly appreciated artists, lastly and surely more close to the tattooist heart, they had some cash to spend.
    This predominantly medieval city of Bologna, was in the 13th century one of the ten largest cities in Europe. It was then called Bologna "La Dotta," the learned because of it's university. Bologna has also been called" La Grassa," or "the fat." Consider that lasagna, tortelloni, tortelline, and spaghetti la Bolognese, really ragu, or meat sauce and of course bologna (pronounced "Ba-lone-ee"), better known in Italy as mortadella, were all invented here, it is easy to see why.
    Everywhere you look there are inspirations for food, sex, and new tattoo designs. Come here next year and you will find every aspect of this town of Bologna friendly. There are arched roofs covering every path; each sidewalk is tiled and lined with shopping of every description, Art is everywhere, making it fun in the worst of weather.
    Bored? Then there is the ultra-techno Bologna. As seen during the largest motor expo in Europe, held next to the Palazzzo Dei Congressi just days after the Expo. The motor show displays some of the hottest in new motorcars, motorcycles, and half naked models available in the world.
    Side trips from the Tattoo Expo are plentiful. Nearby is the Ducati motorcycle factory, and one of the larger Harley shops in Europe, called Numero Uno. A great place to shop for Harley stuff marked with an Italian logo. Exciting Italian cities are within quick reach by train. In fifty-five minutes, traveling south, you can be in the city of Florence and visit the great Ufizzi Gallery. To the north, in less than two hours by train lies Venice, and a ride on an Italian version of a "low rider", a customized gondola.
    Since Gorgio Ursini organized the first tattoo exhibition, during which I represented the East Coast of the US ten years ago in Rome, tattooing has literally exploded. As a result there are tattoo shops in every major city in Italy. All of the artists are happy to meet and share ideas with foreign travelers. So bring your English to Italian dictionary, or just smile, eat, and say "Ciao Bella".
  6. Shotsie Gorman
    First North American Serial Rights
    About 1146 Words
    Copyright 2011 Shotsie Gorman
    HOUSTON TATTOO CONVENTION 1996
    The Astrodome is the world’s first posh air-conditioned sports arena--a true testament to the crass cash available from the oil industry.
    In its shadow another first was being remembered this January day a twentieth anniversary of the first-ever US Tattoo Convention, This one hosted by Lyle Tuttle and Dave Yerkew.
    The tattooed crowds were certainly causing a stir in Houston. “You boys in a rock’n’roll band or something?” stuttered out a dumbfounded policeman swarmed by tattooed types shopping in the boot store directly opposite the convention site. Actually, considering what there was to do in Houston in January, a loud fart from one of The Papa Johns Restaurant chain outfits called (about the only place reachable on foot from the hotel) could've caused a stir.
    Across from us loomed the Astrodome, like this anniversary of first Texas meeting of the inked, has contributed its own important cultural influence. It suddenly felt the two histories have overlapped in some perverse manner. Both surrounded by used car lots and pawnshops.
    Once the Astrodome’s dome construction was complete and the field was playable, the Athlete’s complained they could not see the ball through the magnification of the sun in the glass dome. The answer was to tint the glass. It worked fine. The ball could be
    seen--but golly, surprise, cut the sun and the grass dies. Hence the plastic grass ASTRO TURF IS born. It immediately contributed to more shredded knees and damaged backs and deaths in football history, large chemical poisonings of those who made it overseas The high-dollar fans were cool and comfortable, like the Caesars and Romans in their forums before them.
    By the way “Arena” is the Latin word for the sand that was spread on the floor of the Coliseum to absorb all the blood!
    It seems that the tattoo growth over the last twenty years has produced its own share of the tinted dark tone as well. Far from it’s secretive small community of tattooers it has turned darker Multiply the growth in commercial large scale tattoo events in the last 20 years and see what you get.
    I overheard a businessman talking. He had popped into the Sheraton Astrodome hotel with some business clients to have a power lunch unbeknownst to him, smack dab in the middle of the 2oth Anniversary Tattoo Convention and Reunion. On the very day there was a water main break outside the hotel. These two events causing a distinct deterioration in the lackluster personal hygiene of the tattooed and pierced participants. A startling eyeful for our Houston businesman. He glanced around with his mouth agape and exclaimed, “Say, Am I crazy, as he sniffed the air around him, or are we in the basement of the world?”
    He sort of summed up many of the mixed feelings that people had there. With him, we watched a sea of youthful, cherubic faces sporting slashes of protruding metal, boiled-up burn scars with weak tribal connections, arms, necks, and torsos (mostly exposed)covered with demons composed of garish stripes of subconscious fears and unrecognizable blurs of color.
    “ Am I crazy, or are we in the basement of the world.”
    At first I thought I should set him straight. I should give him the ass whipping historical tour of tattooing as an art form. Instead, I laughed out loud.
    Frankly, I don’t know where the next stop is on the in the elevator of the convention cult or where my beloved art form was headed in the commercial world.
    While pondering this question, I looked outside the window of the hotel, at a large looming billboard across the highway from it that read: WHO’S IS IT?” DNA TESTING CALL 1-800-DNA-8888 and thought, Maybe all of our collective scars and fears are not so far from the surface, tattooed or not. Or yes we are in Texas.
    I stood in my 10’X10’ Over priced booth and watched the swarm of humanity go round and round the show, looking for something. All wanted to be looked at and afraid of what everyone will see. On the stage they were shaking and hyperventilating when their wish is finally granted. All eyes on me.
    Along came the stories of how Enigma, was having his skull drilled and steel bolts screwed in for a later fitting of steel horns. I guess I'd never considered if the envelope of the avant guard would be the blood brain barrier. I wondered aloud if the body manipulators had considered how Astroturf could be added in.
    Another story came off the assembly line of passers-bys of suffering the pain of a surgical insertion (done in a musty mold ridden hotel room I might add!) of a plastic prosthetic under a flap of skin on his forehead. All of this blood and gouging apparently, so he could frown and form a Tim Curry devil legendary look-alike demon brow. I guess the sewing kits they provide at these hotels have some use after all.
    Sorry, I guess I am suppose to say “cool dude” and be hip, but I am well more old school and a bit revolted, not by the manipulation of the body in this manner (because that is understandable in the context of ritual but for all the angst, struggle, and suffering of pain merely to portray a trite Hollywood perversion of horror, a demon created for consumer consumption. I think a sad and dangerous interpretation of a powerful metaphor of the human struggle for understanding of what dark forces lie within.
    Or maybe I just don’t get it like I used to say to my old man. Yes, the entire cult of piercing and tattooing conventions is heading us fast somewhere but I don’t have a fucking clue where.
    I am sure there are those who could spin logical defenses for such insertions of plastics in both playing fields just to piss off the local parent groups and conservative Christians or to enjoy the felling and damaging of an athlete.
    Alas, I suspect the youth culture, and cognoscenti will interpret these comments as evidence of my totally un-hip perspective.
    This road will dead-end sooner than later. In the end I can’t help but wonder what will become of those who have chosen it.
    I am admittedly confused by my participation in this strange convention cult and by my mixed feelings toward the evolution of it. It was in many ways like a Hollywood horror film, or like a religious one, all of this is after all is said and done a commercial property not some profound statement on the inner life.
    I was beginning to identify where the real horror was. The well heeled air-conditioned fans of the astrodome watching their prize gladiators being led across the Astroturf of the modern coliseum the rest of us to be manipulated with plastic worlds and six burner stoves their blood splashed across the world for granite counter tops in the new kitchen. All while their souls are ripped to shreds by fear.
    Eventually I did turn away from the astrodome looked around me. I just felt I wanted to put my arms around some of the younger people parading by, despite their stink , praise their scratchy tattoos, pat them on the back and say it’s all right.
    But that would be totally uncool…
  7. Shotsie Gorman
    Bad Excuses
    THE FOLLOWING IS A PARTIAL LIST OF ACTUAL WRITTEN EXCUSES GIVEN TO TEACHERS IN THE ALBURQUERQUE PUBLIC SCHOOL SYSTEM BY PARENTS OF STUDENTS
    1. Dear School: Please excuse John from being absent on Jan. 28, 29,
    30, 31, 32, and also 33.
    2. Please excuse Dianne from being absent yesterday. She was in bed
    with gramps.
    3. Please excuse Johnnie for being. It was his father's fault.
    4. Chris will not be in school because he has an acre in his side.
    5. John has been absent because he had two teeth taken off his face.
    6. Excuse Gloria. She has been under the doctor.
    7. Lillie was absent from school yesterday because she had a going
    >over.
    8. My son is under the doctor's care and should not take fizical ed.
    Please execute him.
    9. Carlos was absent yesterday because he was playing football. He
    was hit in the growing part.
    10. My daughter was absent yesterday because she was tired. She
    spent this weekend with the Marines.
    11. Please excuse Joyce from P.E. for a few days. Yesterday she fell
    off a tree and misplaced her hip.
    12. Please excuse Ray Friday from school. He has very loose vowels.
    13. Maryann was absent Dec. 11-16, because she had a fever, sore
    throat, headache, and upset stomach. Her sister was also sick, fever and sorethroat, her brother had a low-grade fever. There must be the flu going around, her father even got hot last night.
    14. Please excuse Blanche from jim today. She is administrating.
    15. George was absent yesterday because he had a stomach.
    16. Ralph was absent yesterday because he had a sore trout.
    17. Please excuse Sara for being absent. She was sick and I had her
    shot.
    18. Please excuse Lupe. She is having problems with her ovals.
    19. Please excuse Pedro from being absent yesterday. He had
    diah(*crossed out*), diahoah(*crossed out*), dyah(*crossed out*) the shits.
  8. Shotsie Gorman
    Hoep to see my local mates! Food wine and friends see our amazinr array of art works on paper 3/D paintings Ceramics and oils on Canvas!
    Celibrating my wife Kristine's B day as well! Come join in see Sacred Rose tattoo shop a 2000 square foot beaty in Berkeley
    starts at 7pm
    Marcus Cuff of tattoo magazine will be there shooting the show Annie Sprinkle Charles Gatewood many other bay area luminaries! In cluding YOU!
  9. Shotsie Gorman
    BIRDMAN
    Or a day in the life of a tattooist in 1978
    At 4pm the sun was shinning nearly dead even into the window of the small tattoo shop on Kennedy Boulevard speaking of dead it was located just opposite the car rental that rented the white van to the first unsuccessful bombers of the World Trade Towers. Union City, NJ was not exactly exotic like Bombay nor was it cool like NYC for that matter it didn’t even seem like New Jersey it was more like little Cuba. Run by a soon to be convicted for corruption and extortion Italian wise guy, the not so honorable Mayor Musto.
    The windows in question, where the sun was about to cook through, were grayish and gritty. Despite the efforts of the proprietor, that’s me by the way, to clean them often. I suspected it was probably from the crematorium just a few blocks up the boulevard. It gave me pause to think of somebody’s grandfather dusted across my window. So I always said “excuse me folks” when I washed it off and wished them a quick trip over the river Styx.
    Although it could have been the carbon burning traffic on this snake like road, it was constant and as loud as two young Italian wannabe wise guys yakking up stories of hitting and robbing the trains in the transfer station in North Bergin and wanting to trade stolen goods for tattoos.
    This strip down to Staten Island on the NY side was much later to be the haunted holy grounds of The Sopranos’ Godfather Tony.
    It’s not what you think, a typical scummy little tattoo shop in a grimy small town in New Jersey. It was a small piece of heaven in 1978 for me. “Clean enough to eat off the floors” I’d say. The shop was only 12 feet across and 25 feet long and it held the universe. From the moment I opened the doors I had so much business I almost couldn’t handle it. I became fast friends with the local Santero, A Santeria Priest for those of you of the white bread persuasion. After that I was gold in the Cuban Community they watched out for me Cooked for me invited me to salsa dances and got tattooed as penance or prayers Santa Barbara, St Lazarus, Cryptic scrawl of Santeria spells all became my tween worlds my bread and butter. I was being taught to speak enough Spanish to ask what color and how much do you want to spend by a young lovely young Cuban woman without dancing legs in a wheel chair who sat with a talking Parakeet on her right shoulder that spoke more Spanish than I could, after four months I quit.
    Speaking of Spanish speaking birds and other oddities of living in the land of the Mariolettos (Cubans let out of prisons and insane asylums a gift from Castro for the US State Department to give visas too. the Set on rickety boats to America. Those who made the crossing also made their way from Miami FL to Union City NJ. What was I saying? oh yes, I have to pull on your coat about the Birdman.
    I had a slow day doing a couple of cryptic Santeria tattoos on friends of the local Santero. I was buzzing away on the last one when it started.
    I had a wall separating the tattoo area from the front and a small security mirror to see who came through the door.
    I heard this chirping. I was thinking it was a bird found it’s way into my shop. I looked up to the to see him, this guy chirping away. First long chirps with pause then rolling chirps all connected together.
    He was wearing a cut off yellow windbreaker with out the usual wife beater shirt, and ripped jeans.
    I called over the wall “I’ll be right with you pal.”
    He just stuttered out another bird song.
    Completing the tattoo I was doing, I collected my fee and walked through the door to the front.
    “So what’s up?”
    He pivoted, pulling down the jacket zipper turning his naked to the waist and tan lined body to me smelling of High Karate, yelling, he was,
    “THE BIRDMAN!”
    To prove it he had it emblazoned across his his back from shoulder to shoulder in eight inch tall Old English letters tattooed, that read,
    B-I-R-D-N-A-N!
    I say calmly, “OK Birdman, never acknowledging the eight inch missing M, What can I do for you.”
    Pointing to a blank spot among the small bird tattoos wallpapering his arm, he said, rattling through his nose.
    “Well! What do you think? I want a bird tattoo right here.”
    There were birds the likes of hummingbirds as big as eagles and chickadees larger than crows, no accounting for scale, style, or skill. Although, he was working hard to fill with birds in every open space. Sort of like the driving style of New Jersey drivers if there is a space you fill it.
    He shows me the picture of a whippoorwill whilst chirping the whippoorwills’ song or so he claimed. I never having seen or heard a whippoorwill took his word for it.
    During the tattoo he entertained me by singing no less than 50 songs of various birds of North America, all while chewing on sunflower seeds. I didn’t bother putting on the stereo.
    Someone else came through the door, as I was finishing up the tattoo. Birdman was donning his windbreaker; I strolled to the front to chat up the next client. He passed me singing a sad bird refrain and smiled and whispered passing.
    “I’m the Birdman…”
    The new customer and I walk to the work area. I look down to the clients black leather chair and there to my astonishment where Birdman was sitting, was a three inch,golden foil covered, chocolate egg!
  13. Shotsie Gorman
    “THE SAD THING ABOUT THIS WORLD IS;
    EVERYBODY HAS THEIR REASONS”
    August Renior
    “Some people put the best inside. Some people put the best outside “ Bob Marley
    I’m sure he had many of them, I do
    People do -- have lots of them.
    Secret ones that destroy others
    like stealth bombs of desire.
    After the scatological shrapnel slices you apart
    They line their hearts, as armor.
    The way you’d put gray flannel pants in the winter,
    red wool over your eyes,
    or sing an old Bob Wills tune.
    “Can’t pull it over my eyes” he’d say,
    before she smoked him.
    Lit up and burned
    like and old butt he found weeks later
    under a small stack of love letters piled up
    to burn for heat while living on the street.
    Everybody has them.
    Often they spread them thickly
    like a protective coating of lard over their lives.
    Even though tallow can be carved into fine art,
    it has to be left in the dark and cool.
    A place like your subconscious basement apartment.
    Seductive they are,
    once neatly spread to catch the flies
    and well supported by Nietzsche, Shoppenouer or Jesus.
    You pull them in.
    Like knowing the right card in a three card Monte game.
    Of course they can be slid to you via higher levels of consciousness
    by Swami Snatchenyoudownah’s tantric yogic practice.
    Taoists say the sage butcher never
    has to sharpen the blade while crudely slicing - often into anyone near by.
    “Look you just gotta’ get it!
    It’s my destiny to move on now.
    I have to get a new shape,
    a new karma, a new lover with a better car,
    a new line at the five and dime”
    Many times reasons are made like fine Chinese papercuts.
    You become so mesmerized by the art-
    you don’t ever see the message coming
    until it’s scissors slice through your open eyes.
    You know, the way you would cut paper
    for your kitchen drawers.
    I mean, they always starting out bright yellow
    with the idea of keeping those things neat
    and available for your everyday use.
    Every piece measured carefully
    until the third drawer where you stop measuring.
    Reasons build up like clutter.
    The most expensive clutter, paid for with the pain
    you have in your now gashed heart.
    Breakdowns in a sobbing fetal mass despite the hot shower.
    When you are alone and all of it comes.
    Drawers get stuck.
    Only the same one opens again and again.
    “Don’t fixate she said !
    Don’t obsess!”
    Small swarms of blackened shadows buzz round at three am.
    More like 3:33 blinking red now.
    Their like assholes.
    Everybody has em.
    Reasons are piled up like cigarettes
    along the curb at the stop light.
    Like the lint that forms in your pockets
    and the dust mites settling from nowhere
    on everything you hold dear.
    The tattoo marks you collect on your body
    It’s a changing world
    See it change.
    Walking away, she said.
    “I am sorry you don’t get it--it’s nothing personal.
    I mean if you were me you would understand
    I had to go! Things just got out of hand.
    I had a new job offer, friend, lover,
    a chance to get all new clutter and form new horizons--
    bigger ones with brighter linings--I--I have to go!
    Wasn’t like I wanted to be disloyal,
    dishonest or lack character.
    Those ideas are old, like you-- piled up in a back alley’s in the lower Eastside.
    It’s not just me-- I know you had your own!
    Just because you called them honor and loyalty high and mighty bullshit.
    Next, you’ll be telling me why it’s called love and forgiveness .
    Like you have some insight as to the influence you have in--my--world.
    It is mine-- you know.” She said
    Her reasons;
    poured out like so much paper toweling
    falling out of an over stuffed public toilet trash can
    that no one ever picks up.
    No one ever picks them up.
    Because
    they have
    their
    reasons.
  14. Shotsie Gorman
    "A CONVERSATION WITH SHOTSIE GORMAN" WILL BE AVAILABLE THIS MONTH AT THE PORTSMOUTH UK TATTOO CONVENTION. on the 14 15th of April, It will be availablke again for FREE at ORegon ink tattoo expo April 27 28th 29th
    Her is what some people are saying about this seminar.
    Come one Come all
    "Turn off your f-ing cell phones, and uncross your arms and legs" ....and get ready to stretch your creative brain.
    *
    Shotsie Gorman's seminar is about finding inspiration in everything around you, not just everything that has been done before you. He teaches you ways to unstick your brain, and be brave enough to think, and create, outside the proverbial tattoo box.
    *
    Complete with awesome personal stories, and relevant examples that push the boundaries of the status quo, this seminar is a must for anyone who may find themselves in a creative rut, doing the same old stuff, and needs a kick in the pants. Plus, you get tattoo history, and stories, from a living legend. How cool is that?
    *
    I highly recommend this seminar. It was well worth the time.
    Thank you Mr. Shotsie!
    -Tanya Magdalena, Above the Pearl Tattoo.
    Come one Come all
    "Turn off your f-ing cell phones, and uncross your arms and legs" ....and get ready to stretch your creative brain.
    *
    Shotsie Gorman's seminar is about finding inspiration in everything around you, not just everything that has been done before you. He teaches you ways to unstick your brain, and be brave enough to think, and create, outside the proverbial tattoo box.
    *
    Complete with awesome personal stories, and relevant examples that push the boundaries of the status quo, this seminar is a must for anyone who may find themselves in a creative rut, doing the same old stuff, and needs a kick in the pants. Plus, you get tattoo history, and stories, from a living legend. How cool is that?
    *
    I highly recommend this seminar. It was well worth the time.
    Thank you Mr. Shotsie!
    -Tanya Magdalena, Above the Pearl Tattoo.
    Scott Sprouse: thanks! seminar was awesome...mind blowing! i saw your lips moving, but your voice was coming from inside my mind.
    Hey Shotsie! Sorry I haven't gotten you that testimonial yet, if you can still use it here it is, and if not well then I'd still like you to know how much I enjoyed your seminar!
    Cheers!
    "Anybody who is insecure about the artistic process and how to get the spark of inspiration needs to listen to Shotsie talk, he is warm, fierce and full of knowledge and I left his seminar feeling like I could conquer any blank piece of paper in my way."
    And here's the long version I used to get the words flowing.
    "These days anyone can be an artist it seems. Amid knock offs and impersonators, Shotsie Gorman has a gift to share with us. He knows how to unlock that inner passion, the thing that sets apart true artists from impersonators. We must fight that fear of failure, to just create something even if it is terrible. It is still something to learn from. Despite how much we think we know about ourselves and the world, it is important to know we really know nothing at all. The concept of creation is so large and weighted by our own insecurities, we must learn to use the tools we already have in our mind to create and inspire. His stories and wisdom comes from the heart and soul, and he is a gifted speaker whose words resonate deeply to all walks of artistic life."
    Olivia
    JoshuaSouth Areafiftyone
    I wrote something about your seminar My name is Joshua South, I have been tattooing for almost 23 years and recently I attended the Eugene Oregon tattoo convention. I was really excited to find out Shotsie Gorman was having a seminar as he truly is a legend in the tattoo industry. But I had no idea what it was about, didn’t matter I was in based on his reputation alone.
    When I entered the room it was filling up fast but I managed to snag an empty seat. The first thing I noticed about Shotsie was his powerful presence and control of the atmosphere. He had an extremely Zen like feeling of confidence about him that made me feel comfortable and attentive to what would be coming next.
    As he began speaking and warming up the group with a few humorous classic stories I settled in and really started to listen. Slowly I became aware of what I was learning, and that was the creative process and how it evokes from within me. He spoke in simple words and described something almost impossible to see, creation... I mean how can you tell someone with words exactly how to find the creative spot within, focus in on it and then detail it for someone else to see?
    Somehow Shotsie Gorman can and I would recommend his seminar to anyone. I felt crazy amounts of energy flashing through me as he spoke, I will never forget it and if I ever get the chance I will go again
    Thanks for the class Shotsie! You're ability to keep a class focused, on track and organized was unparalled by ANY other class I've attended. Your message (to me) was simple but amzingly helpful. Stop, shut up, listen, and create. It can't really be made any easier. As you said, if people spent half the energy creating what they personaly love as they do copying other peoples ideas then their artwork will sell itself. Thank you for helping to break the mold, detroy the rut and push people to do what they love, not what they think they can sell. I hope you find this helpful and it finds you in good health.
    ~Matteo Holmes
    Call Shotsie Gorman 707-299-0882 to book this Seminar at your next event!
  16. Shotsie Gorman
    It s wonderfull to know unselfish people. I am so tired of phoney,spiritual types who are secretly bitter, fearful, unable to truly live their spiritual teachings in any other than LIP service. I am constantly pushing buttons of those types, hypocrites. All the, alters, bells and incense but no true center. Just their egos! Acting as though, they had control of the universe, could direct it for good or evil intent! Eventually leads to all sorts of tumor growth but never growth into their true paths.
  17. Shotsie Gorman
    Sacred Rose Tattoo, Best of the Bay winners, locations on University ave in Berkeley and Solano Ave. in Albany. Looking for a full or part time tattooist. Also looking for a cosmetic tattoo artist to work by appointment only or to contract out a station. This is a reputable and high end shop. You must have a versatile portfolio and at least 5 years professional shop experience. Motivated, customer service, friendly disposition a must. Serious inquiries only.
    1728 University Avenue, Berkeley, CA 94703
    (510) 883-1083
  18. Shotsie Gorman
    Shotsie Gorman First North American Serial Rights
    579 word Copyright 2010 Shotsie Gorman
    MARLBORO MAN
    An interview with an old school Tattooer
    Chunks of gold comprised his monogram ring. Dazzling gold surrounded his wrist in a pile of watchband and bracelets. The yellow metal seemed almost as out of place in his mouth as on his knurled hands, tattooed with indecipherably fuzzy blue letters. Each digit's symbol led your eye to the web of thumb and forefinger of his right hand, where the stigmata of a long forgotten commitment read to love Joan forever. If only he'd held onto Joan the way he clutches that cigarette, his life might have been different. Though not necessarily better. Those hands might have been better suited to the simple battered wedding ring of the day laborer or the scarred but unpretentious absence of decoration of a convicted felon. It wasn't until the flash of his smile that I reconsidered. Sparkling gold teeth shone out of his mouth. They lit up his whole face, until a cloud of cynical stories and blue-gray cigarette smoke passed over it. A life of dirty deeds, boonswagles, overcharging drunks, head in trade for tattooing and seductions leapt out of his deep-pocketed blue eyes.
    I tried to focus and breathe in the billowing smoke, the stinking rancid barbecue in the trash and bleak commentary that poured out him. I wanted him to let out his life to me. Maybe he literally was. Continue the interview rang my mantra. "Well, Jack, after half a century of being in the tattooed skin tattoo trade if you could do it over what would you do differently? How would you have changed it?"
    A riotous cough sent him doubling over, his body retching in what seemed a desperate, convulsive cry for help. I was suddenly aware of how tight and dark the waiting room was. "Goddamn-- egh! Emphysema," he gagged out. He started up again "Well you know, son, let me tell ya." Jack prefaced every gem of wisdom with this phrase. I heard it over and over. It was his way of slamming you with a two-by-four to get your attention. It made me think at the moment, of the music in "Jaws. "I've been in the tattoo trade for as long as I can remember." He sputtered again, spasming into a long cough.
    "Are you all right Jack?"
    "Yeah I'm fantastic."
    "Ain't Life Grand," done in a 1930's Texas Swing style, twanged from the ceiling speakers-- Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys, offering their ironic commentary here in Arlington, Texas, out of a dark 1990s box. Jack sat up, his right hand tapping the pack of butts in his blue short-sleeve
    poplin shirt. He tapped, then again, just to be sure they were there. He took the pack out, tapped it on the counter, pushed the bottom corner up, forcing out several cigarettes just enough so the configuration of filters exactly resembled those in the old Marlboro ads. Out slid a butt. He tapped it on the filter side with his indecipherable blue tattooed right hand. He moved so deftly, sliding the pack into his shirt, it seemed one motion to me. I had seen it so many times over the last few hours that I'd become enthralled by the ballet. It was almost a Baryshnikoff move. Again he tapped the pack. He seemed to lose consciousness for the entire period of this dance. He sniffed the butt then lit it so fast I missed it.
    " Well, you know son, let me tell ya. If I had to do it all over again, I'd've been a preacher."
  19. Shotsie Gorman
    MEASURING CUP
    I considered that,
    life is measured.
    Like in a sweet recipe.
    One teaspoon of cinnamon,
    after another.
    Not the rough bark to be rubbed
    over a small toothed grader,
    But more like the soft pungent powder.
    In the smell I have seen and know,
    from my travels
    there are Grenadian women,
    hunched over rolling wet bark into small cigars.
    Their sweaty palms turning rusty red.
    Hear them gossip on passion, or lack of it.
    Soulfully singing songs from childhood.
    Bountiful breasts held in flowered material.
    Spending their days hewing cinnamon cigars stuffed into large burlap bags filled to near bursting, like their skirts.
    Coarse brown bags stacked to ceiling in a huge dusty red warehouse go off into infinity behind them.
    Nothing deters their hands.
    More cinnamon than could flavor every dish
    ever served by all mankind.
    Still they work in a red fever.
    In their day, is the architecture of madness.
    Like Sisyphus’ toil, and immense passion.
    An abundant joy of life.
    Measured, one level tablespoon at a time.
    Over and over.

    http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3279/2920018862_cab1fc1b3d.jpg%3Fv%3D0&imgrefurl=http://flickr.com/photos/29196838%40N00/2920018862/&usg=__s88bzLU-m_NiBnCutwojlS7ULvE=&h=500&w=333&sz=128&hl=en&start=140&zoom=1&tbnid=jXPiC98eLZuc_M:&tbnh=159&tbnw=97&ei=I18-Tb7cC5P2tgPuqNzDBQ&prev=/images%3Fq%3DCinnamon%2Bin%2BGrenada%26hl%3Den%26c lient%3Dsafari%26rls%3Den%26biw%3D1085%26bih%3D823 %26tbs%3Disch:10%2C5880&itbs=1&iact=rc&dur=481&oei=EF8-TYfAGpK-sAP5wN36BA&esq=11&page=9&ndsp=18&ved=1t:429,r:10,s:140&tx=55&ty=113&biw=1085&bih=823
  21. Shotsie Gorman
    Only the mind blowing best of info from a 33 year veteren tattooists and Polymath!
    Don't miss out on this opportunity to sit for one hour for free!
    and go on a rollercoaster ride. Learn to tune your mind springs get the thought lines in order, Wrap the coils of the into universe in to an understandable vision. Se spectacular nsights fly around the rooom..
    http://oregonink.net/
  23. Shotsie Gorman
    Shotsie and His wife are a dynamic duo of vreative energy. There will be an exhibition of both of their work at SACRED ROSE TATTOO STUDIO GALLERY SR2 17 28 UNIVERSITY AVENUE BERKELEY
    Shotsie will be showing Ceramic sculpture, Paintings and works on paper, Kristine Gorm,an will be displaying a collection of large scale oils on canvas of KOI FISH!
    The show has an opening party with amazine food and wine on August Sixth Saturday from 7pm unitl?
    Show runs until September 1st 2011
    For further information call 707-299-0882 Shotsie Gorman

  24. Shotsie Gorman
    http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=2614706732839&set=a.2614706572835.2148062.1410202637&type=1&theater
    My work is placed at the NAU Museum of art in Flagstaff AZ via a National Juried show. Every two years submitting artist works are revued for placement in this show .It's a difficult one to get into. The selection process is from over 8,000 submissions froma round the US.
    I am proud to have two of my ceramic pieces in the show it's up until the end of December for those close enough to see it.
    thanks
    amigo's
    Shotsie Gorman
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