Some early bio. The d is silent.
I grew up in Las Cruces, New Mexico, and in Las Vegas, Nevada, and now live in Albuquerque.
Here's a pic with my sister Nieve Pearl, who used to sing and write with her band Doomless. These days she lives with our Mom Lynne on Maui, where they are both massage therapists.
Las Cruces was a good town to grow up in, being quiet and open, with a good mix of country people, regular working folks, Mexicans, Apaches, and scientists. (Not many black, Asian, or other, and nobody you'd call "rich people" but experience is making up for that as I meet all kinds of new friends.) My grandfather Cecil was one of the first genuine rocket scientists who created the space age at White Sands Missile Range sixty years ago, making my Dad one of the first rocket base kids in the world. Some of my friends' families once knew Billy The Kid and Pat Garrett, who used to hang out back in 1900 at one of the houses we lived in. My grandmother Barbara was an artist I never got to meet.
Here's a pic with my friend Sommer, in my fully-tagged bedroom, back about 1996.
My father James
has been through a lot weird stuff. He's seen a lot of bullshit all the way from Vietnam to Woodstock , from Osiris to Jesus, from airline pilot instructor to Las Vegas sports book gambler, and through four marriages. All of which is great for me cuz now I aints gotta put up with all that rappity-crap stank-ass shit they went though while their generation was trying to figure out how to get out of the box of illusions their parents had raised them in. But that don't mean I don't go out and have adventures to tell my kids later in life.
Here is a picture taken in 1997 on the way to a Las Cruces Community Theater awards banquet. The artwork is by my Dad, which might tell you something about how I got to be who I am.
At seven years old I stuck a needle through my left ear and put a gold stud through it. That was the begining of a beeautiful friendship. In middle school I put a safety pin through my nipple in class, which upset the teacher, to my great delight. When the school called my Dad, he said, "A safety pin? Yeah? So what's the problem?" That was major cool. I have since gone through the stinging pleasure of piercing my eyebrow, labret, tongue, nipples, and navel, and have just recently added some neat spikes through the dimples in my cheeks. After waiting since I was about fifteen to be sure I had just the right piece, I finally put my tat across my shoulders, pair of dragons I spent a long time designing. Piercing is fun, but there is a commitment about tat work that as an artist I have always felt should be taken very seriously. You only get one canvas.
Here's a picture of a couple of my character bongs, made back when I was about sixteen. As I was raised to be socially responsible and hopefully sensible even if one of the outlaws, I did check out most of the stuff going around that wasn't obviously stupid shit, you hear what I'm saying. I tried a few that turned out to be stupid shit after all, some I liked a lot but didn't want to live there, and I figure I came away with a pretty good handle on being able to take or leave all that shit. I found good shit and bad shit on both sides of the law, and I can say honestly that my drug of choice is beer after all, and I'm happy to let the rest go.
Here is a picture of a very old Boy -- in costume for Grandpa in a 1997 production of "You Can't Take It With You" -- and yep, the usual long red locks were shaved out and whited for the part.
I have worked in several media -- tag-artist, painter, stage actor, singer, songwriter, jeweler, and sculptor. To see a group of my earliest sketches made back in middle school, click here on dBook o' dBoy Volume 1. I went to high school at Las Vegas's magnet school for performing arts thinking I would go into acting. It turned out the school's whole theory of education existed principally to replace any thought a student might have about doing original creative work with an obsession for security, puritan tradition, and moralist censorship. After a grinding couple of years there, I turned down a scholarship in theater and dropped out of the education machine to be a rock star and an artist. That produced the seriously talented but ill-fated band HABIT ROUGE and a now-scattered collection of large oil paintings, often working with my friend and partner Scott Famin. Since many of those were portraits of girls I liked taking the clothes off of, they mostly are the owners of those paintings now. To see some of those, click here on dBook o'dBoy Volume Two.
When the band suffered tragedy and discord and broke up, I moved to Albuquerque to pursue the artist thing. I took a job selling paint (where I learned everything about mixing color that I had not in my pathetic high school), and at some point discovered I have a talent for drawing things people like as tattoos that were better than most of the stuff I was seeing on people's skin. I went back to Las Vegas and apprenticed myself to some varied individuals to learn the art that has become the great delight of my life. I had some good teachers, and some charlatans, and met some really fine and honest people, and met some who were genuine vampires and trolls. I suffered some abuse, paid some dues, got rescued from the dragon's jaws by friends more than once, hid out in outlaw country with an old wizard on Tatooine (where else), and am now back in Albuquerque and laying down ink full time, and loving it.
Best place to contact me is on my Facebook page: BOY DBOY or send me email with the link below:
Click HERE to HEAR my Las Vegas band