I come from a cultural eccentric scene. I was raised in a counter culture (by lesbian Beat-nick writers(my moms)), and became a part of many subcultures as a youth. Not just the Punk scene. I love Punk, OI!, Goth, Industrial, strange electronica, and the most esoteric aspects of underground rock-and-roll. I did not grow up in a middle class nuclear family life style. I grew up working-poor, in a violent, low income neighborhood, in the East Bay. As a kid I ate granola , and stayed up late with my mother in smoky San Francisco cafes and watched my mom snap her fingers instead of clapping her hands in respect for the person speaking behind the coffee shop microphone. I was taken to the Exploratorium and the Palace of fine Arts as often as other parents take their children to the zoo. I discovered the chaos of live music in 1984, back when Gillman Street was called the “Where-house”. I discovered Punk music, and culture in Sacramento, around the same time I was visiting my father on the weekends in the summer of 1985. I was skateboarding the K Street Mall in Sacramento before the Shame-train was put in. To this day I am attracted to and keen on music, as if it were as important as the food I eat.
I am urban. I am a true city baby. I love sirens, graffiti, smog and concrete. I skateboard as if it were a practiced meditation acknowledging the clacking of sidewalk grooves under my wheels as my mantra. I do not reminisce about these times… I am still there for the most part.
I work in the tattoo industry, and have done so, off and on my whole adult life. I feel like I am the child who grew up in the circus, but sometimes I want to run away and join real life. I love my culture all the same, and there is no other career or life style I would rather be involved in. I didn’t sell-out... ...I bought in.

I’m not going to tell you what my top three albums are or my top five foreign films are either. That is the “High fidelity”, stupid list shit that most people do.
I am a father raising my Baby girl. I don’t need to say what this part of my life means to me. I smoke cigarettes, and I love Café Bustelo, and I enjoy them with no guilt or qualms. I do not drink alcohol, and I do not take any drugs that are not prescribed to me by my doctor(and haven’t for more years than I have fingers).
I am an artist, writer and reader. I don’t own a TV, and I could care less. I like film but not too much on the mainstream. I try to stay involved and up-to-date with the local arts scene. I'm heavily influenced by artists: Mobius, and Burnnie Wrightson. I have studied the masters as well, but pen and ink have influenced me the most.
I am not a toughguy. I am not a bruiser. I am a Father, an artist, a skater, a writer, and a 39 year old Punk. I am a wide open eye of hurricane. I am rolling urges red-glowing desire. I am cock sure, wise as hell. I am the morning mist when my love steps out doors, shining steel , in tight, ink black pants. I am a street writer, born into a clan of good&evil.
There are those who will omit most of themselves for too long and there are those who are just a mirror of someone they once loved. I, hide behind my sleeves of tattoos and the mystique of not being loud; but a watcher, carefully observing my surroundings in an alien environment, and amongst peers I do not know. I am not other people. My thoughts are not someone else's opinions, my life is not a mimicry, and my passions are not a quotation. I am completely self made. I am self taught, self motivated, and self produced. I am my own industry. I have been broken, and fixed, flawed and rusted, and I survived! I use the word “Punk” because of it's deep, cultural, intellectual, DIY, and free thinking ideals, and not for the coarse, broken glass, and fist full of safety-pin properties that it is so commonly associated with it. I am not a spiked ball of social-unrest that says “fuck”all the time. I am as articulate, intelligent, and as feeling, as any. I relate to Punkrock's creative, book-smart, and non-materialistic ideology by mainstream standard. I am not a toughguy. I am not a bruiser. I am not a badass... ...but badasses don't fuck with me!

Tattooing, Drawing, painting, skateboarding, and raising my daughter.

Drawing, painting, Tattooing, listening to what you have to say with out interjecting or looking at my phone for a second, cooking and eating food, stringing words together on paper, lifting heavy things, not killing house plants, card tricks and slight of hand, rolling cigarettes...

The first things people probably notice about me are my tattoos and piercings. More importantly, the first things I notice about others are the first things they say, what words people use when they speak, their mannerisms and body language...

My daughter, Some art supplies, a computerized device(computer, tablet,or smartphone), someone to talk to,....

My daughters future, and how to provde that for her alone...

If you have actually read my "Self summery, and you can actually understand where I come from and you relate...