friday dawn's early in the loveless house, i'm off work today, trying to use up my annual leave entitlement rather than losing it, but, the boy jack, need's to get to work at 0600hrs and i need the car, up, tea, dressed, do yet another hour's work for fuck-all, can't just walk away when there's stuff to do, even though i work for a big company who don't give a fuck about me, personally, i want to do a good job for my pay and can't just say 'fuck it', anyway, enough 'fuck's'  back home before 0800hrs, walking the dog's across the deserted derbyshire hill's and my mood lift's, it's a cold, cloudy day but, i'm not at work, so that has to be good doesn't it? andy smith, the guy i sold my mz racer call's down to pick up his wheel's that we have machined up, we talk about the respective season's, he's racing with the 'zed's with bemsee and i've jumped ship and racing with the british historic racing club, we have a brew and shoot the shit about bikes in general, i grab a shower and drive down to ben's new shop, ben and tim worked together at 'second skin' tattoo's on ashbourne road in derby, great shop with both artist's turning out some great work between them, all the time though was that desire from ben to open his own shop and to develop his own identity, a search for premises turned up an old post office building in shelton-lock, a suburb of derby, tim and his son jordan continue to tattoo from 'second skin' brilliant artist's laying down great work, today, i drove down to ben's new shop, a stone's throw from my old mucker's house stevie marsh, i parked up on his drive and knocked on the door, we made the short walk down to the studio and, fucking hell, is it ever nice, ben was putting the finishing touches to a girl's half sleeve, steve made a brew and shared out the jaffa cake's, the studio is pristine, three wall's in the reception area are old english cream, the back wall, a raspberry sorbet red, two panel's of black wall paper with a skull motif, candle chandelier, antique flooring and deep buttoned leather chesterfield settee's, no typical tattoo studio 'flash' on the walls, just a feeling of clinical, clean, peacefullness, the tattoo 'area' itself is brightly lit, surgical flooring climbing the wall's, the autoclave/kitchen/rest room area scrubbed to the 'n'th' degree, it remind's me of a dentist's surgery, efficient but homely, the lighting and background music more akin to visiting someone's house, just the type of place you want to get tattooed in, had a solid three hour's worth of tattooing, thank's ben, not just for the ink but for the hoodie too.............

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  1. Maaaate, there are tattoos, great tattoos and then there are pieces so stunning in their beauty they transcend the medium entirely and become almost skin bound, fine art . . . that is wot you got my son, absolutely fucking gorgeous, one of the most beautiful pieces I've ever seen in me 'ole life, the twist on the classic Japanese style with just the black and grey balanced against highlights of perfectly apportioned red is utterly fucking stunning. He is one ultra talented artist Lovey, smashing !!! I'll get to finishing the Pistols post this arvo, once the cracking hangover calms down a tad . . . ow !!!

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