Still a work in progress, this is a photo essay about the ubiquitous "99 Cents stores" in New York City. I took all these photos inside a local 99 Cents store with an iphone, then I made composite images using other iphone photos of the flaking p...(more)

Still a work in progress, this is a photo essay about the ubiquitous "99 Cents stores" in New York City. I took all these photos inside a local 99 Cents store with an iphone, then I made composite images using other iphone photos of the flaking paint on the walls of the same shop and superimposed the two. I am trying to convey a sense of social decay, of broken dreams, disillusion and imperfection. These retail outlets, once simply called "99 Cent Stores", now evolved into "99 Cent -or more" Stores", cater for a large number of mostly immigrant customers, who try to live the American dream of "shop till you drop" in the only places where they can afford it. The wide-ranging merchandise is all quantity versus quality based and often, next to cheap plastic dolls and no-brand cleaning supplies, you are able to buy canned food (nearing or past expiration date), clothing, and all sorts of sub-standard household items. The only good thing about this stores is the price, usually a dollar per item and never more than three-four dollars for the most expensive goods (like a pressure cooker or a CD player). I am a user too, but every time I go in there, every time I walk the shabby, misaligned aisles I find myself meditating about Russia, about the Cuban revolution and the principles of Capitalism. I mostly end up buying pretty awful picture frames containing horrible prints of flowers, little angels and improbable, utopic panoramas which I carefully remove with a sharp knife when I get home and substitute with my own favorite photographic prints.

Andalucia. The place I lived , the place I love, the place I yearn to return to one day. Spanish weeks in Andalucia Spanish leather boots to wear Heard the gypsy guitar strumming Spanish flowers in the dancer's hair And her Spanish dresses ...(more)

Andalucia. The place I lived , the place I love, the place I yearn to return to one day. Spanish weeks in Andalucia Spanish leather boots to wear Heard the gypsy guitar strumming Spanish flowers in the dancer's hair And her Spanish dresses waving Spanish diamonds in her eyes The gypsy guitar has slowed to something Like a Spanish lullaby Gypsy women softly singing Men gaze with sad Spanish eyes At the gypsy dancer, stunning, Dancing to her Spanish lullaby Candles and soft torches burning Spanish fire used to see Tomorrow, too soon, will be coming Tomorrow the Spanish caravan leaves Andalucia. poem by Patrick O'Reilly

A small selection of, the most of 'em, traditional tattoo designs I've put on people who trusted a part of their body to me during the last 14 years. Simple, bold and solid icons, each telling their own story. I'm fortunate to be able do what I'm...(more)

A small selection of, the most of 'em, traditional tattoo designs I've put on people who trusted a part of their body to me during the last 14 years. Simple, bold and solid icons, each telling their own story. I'm fortunate to be able do what I'm doing, tattooing.