Snake Charmer

Scott Campbell

I love tattoo art. I watched Miami Ink and LA Ink in an almost trance like manner to see what the artists would come up with next, and the various reasons that would drive people to make that kind of permanent statement on their own bodies.
People would walk in randomly off the street and approach the tattoo artist with a very vague idea of a piece they wanted to commission in order to commemorate a special occasion, or to honor a loved one, and based on this flimsiest of information, these talented men and women would come up with something that would express in picture form what many of these people failed to articulate in words. I love tattoo art when its used in other mediums; clothes, shoes, canvas, and of course the mad art this guy is doing. My friend actually went to a show of his in a gallery in London and she said that in real life all this intricate laser cut work is done on actual dollar bills, so not only is it beautiful, it's tiny.

In a completely unrelated matter, I used to know (what does that mean anyway, just because someone is not in your life anymore doesn't mean you cease to "know" them, even though you might wish it to be the case, its just a linguistic freudian slip) a smooth bastard who stated, without irony, that it was simply in his nature to be a snake, and thus, he couldn't help it if those who were around him got bitten every once in a while. I love snakes. I love their sinewy, surprisingly hard muscles. I love the slinky way they move. I love their effortless elegance, and I love the way they coil themselves around things even though they sometimes squeeze the life out of them in the process. I am, however, aware that they are not one of God's most intelligent creatures, and their unfriendly me-against-the-prey-mentality sets them up for a solitary existence. Naturally, the easiest way to handle a snake that might hurt you with its bite is to get its fangs removed, and no matter how sexy slithering reptiles are, there are friendlier, more useful animals out there you can actually cuddle.

Seeing this bad-ass gorgeous cobra jump out from the dollar bill, tattoos and Mr. Snake came together, and while some people will commit to a piece of art living on their skin for life, some feckless eedjits can't even commit to a logical thought process. Skin 'em and slap 'em onto a pair of stilettos I say.

"Cat Among the Pigeons"