ISSUE 26. ARCHIVE. MYSPACE. CONTACT. LINKS

                                          By Sofia Mella

I first met Ted West in our old shop about five years ago.  He immediately won me over with his endearing habit of answering every question with a monosyllabic "Yep".  Ted was completely unpretentious.  He must have been very young at the time, but he had made up his mind to get covered in what can only be described as straight up, slap on bogan tattoos.  Ted found his brother-in-ink in the form of tattooist Mark Tumaru.  Mark, with his secret rats-tail and gothic knowledge was a revelation for Ted; in between tattooing Frankensteins and skulls, Mark introduced Ted to mutually beloved Type-O-Negative among other dark treasures. 

I was always a bit concerned when Ted booked in because he kept getting really bad ass tattoos and really favoured the jail style look.  I tried to coax him towards something a bit more arty, perhaps something that would carry him through life with a bit of maturity.  Then I found out that Ted's clock was ticking quite a lot faster than most - he was living with Cystic Fibrosis, a disease of the lungs that usually gets the better of people in their 20s or 30s.  Knowing this, it suddenly became clear that Ted's tattoo choices were not only perfect for him - they were also totally inspirational for others.  His attitude towards life, ink and art was pure in itself, untainted by ideas of fashion or even permanence.  Everyone at the shop enjoyed Ted's energy and we all loved it when he was booked in - what was this crazy kid going to get next?!

So, time went on, and Ted kept coming back.  We moved shops and people split up, and then we didn't see Ted for a while.  Until I was at the VTS waiting for my car.  I was reading over the shoulder of someone else when I saw Ted's pale blue eyes gazing back at me from the pages of The Aucklander magazine.  I read with mounting alarm that Ted's illness was progressing quickly, and his friend was putting on a benefit show to help raise money for Ted's wish list.  True to form, Ted wanted to trash a hotel room, drive a V8 and ride in a helicopter before the Big Casino in the sky. 

It is very hard to put yourself in someone else's shoes when that someone is a 22 year old who hasn't got long to live.  Young people living with illness like Ted are a little bit different.  Ted had a quiet integrity about him, which must come from knowing himself and knowing his destiny.  There was not one iota of pretension about him. He was still a young, wild kid, but there was clarity reflected in those eyes which was both haunting, and a comfort.

After reading the article I really wanted to help and to show Ted that he affected so many lives just by being around.  So we at The Tattooed Heart studio got together with Sacred to put together an art auction for Ted's wish list.  There was a big flurry of energy surrounding the auction, with local businesses donating printing, postering, PR, graphic design and even a bungy jump for Ted.  People's kind and generous natures really came to the fore, due to Ted's rock n roll lust for life.  Everyone who heard about him was inspired.  Who wouldn't love a guy who's dream was to demolish a fancy hotel room and jump off a bridge!  Ted was so high voltage that it put a stick of dynamite up the ass of everyone involved. 

By the end of the auction we had raised over $5,000.  But Ted's health had taken a nose-dive.  Just as the auction was winding up, Ted lost his fight and slipped away from us. 

Buddhists say that when you are born, you cry and the world rejoices.  When you die, the world cries and you rejoice.  Life is beautiful and death is life's great mystery.  "Seasons don't fear the reaper, nor do the wind, the sun and the rain" (Blue Oyster Cult said that one).  Ted, your spirit lives on in our hearts always.  You're set free.