Monday, March 12, 2012

T.C.B.


T.C.B. 

"Takin Care of Buisness, and the lightning bolt stands for "In a Flash."", my little brother would report, when explaining the iconic insignia of The King, Elvis Presley. Something he often boldly declares, and as sure as he stands in front of you declaring it, he also stands before you, deaf, dumb, and blind to the true meaning of actually Taking Care of Buisness. Kids these days. If they can't click a button and get instant gratification, it sucks. "Video Games made everyone a faggot." a good friend of mine once told me, and I don't think he was wrong. 
Fleets of fat kids with milkshakes between their cheeks and iPod touches in their pudgy, greasy, five thumbed paws roll around the mall on razor scooters until it's time to plop down in front of Tosh.0 or some other filter to the real world. No scraped knees or wrist rockets anymore, just callus covered thumbs and Angry Birds in Space. Kids don't even smoke weed anymore. Too long of a process. They'd rather slam a zani bar into their gut and sink into complete uselessness. 
It is hard, however, to motivate yourself to get some shit done sometimes. Especially when you have a full time job, and 4 or 5 different things you could be doing, all of which seem equally as rad. I find myself telling my friends over and over… "No, dude, I gotta go home and do some shit…alright, one more beer."  When I do finally get myself unscrewed from the bar stool, or out from the depths of FDR, it feels real good to throw on a record, rip a bong, crack a beer, and get to work on some leather. It may take a a substantial amount of self motivation to arrive in the zone, but once I'm there, boy does it feel good. Here's the latest work....


  Kind of a test run, or a "B side", for a future solo seat. There's a trunk show coming up, March 25th, at Tattooed Moms and I've been really trying to collect an inventory for it. I'm going for one completed piece a day, start to finish. Progress had been a bit of a chutes and ladders game with the last project. My eagerness to bust something rad out sent me back to the drawing board three times after getting to the final steps and realizing "Oh, that sucks." That's the game, ya gotta just keep doing it, and doing it, and doing it, and doing it until you're The King. Hammer a thousand nails and they don't call ya' a carpenter, ride one razor scooter, and you're a faggot forever.        

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