Every Tattoo Tells A Story

 As I mentioned in the 23 May blog post, The only bird that I remembered from reading the Torres Strait chapter of Sean Dooley’s book, “The Big Twitch” was the Red-capped Flowerpecker. When I first read it, I had never heard of a Red-capped Flowerpecker. Nor did I ever dream that I would see one on the same island that he did up in the Torres Strait off Papua New Guinea. But I did and now I have the ink.

Old skin, new ink. My left arm this week. Such great birds, such wonderful memories.

Tattoos are an integral part of my Gonzo birding experience. Full stop. I got my first bird ink in August 2018. It was for Amytornis barbatus, Black Grasswren (I actually know how to spell that without looking). It was my 700th bird in Australia. My Aussie list is now at 784. I do hope to reach 800 before I am done, but those last sixteen won’t be easy. 

Top, Gonzo Birder and a Booby (Red-footed) and the first tattoo. In truth, this was second as it covered the first tattoo of Amytornis barbatus with Grey Grasswren feathers.

All of my tattoos are on my arms. I want them where I can see them and easily show them to people if I want. They are wonderful, permanent reminders of joyous times in my life. I can glance down at the Letter-winged Kite tattoo on my right forearm and remember the moment I saw it perched on a fence in Terrick Terrick NP in Victoria and knew for sure that it was not a Black-shouldered Kite. I can reach back in time and touch that moment by looking at the tattoo.

On a side note, that bird illustration was done by my dear friend, the talented Paul Riss. Paul was also the inspiration for me to begin to get bird ink. He has heaps of Latin bird name tattoos. At this writing, I have 23 birds and I am not finished yet.

 

Looking at the tattoo of Princess Parrots in a tree (from David Adam’s photo) can take me far out into the North Gibson Desert where I first beheld the pastel parrot porn of Polytelis alexandrea. I can see those birds as well as the campground at Jupiter Well. That whole wonderful area out there is “... about as far from anywhere as you can go and still be on Earth” to quote Sean Dooley from the Big Twitch. I loved it out there.

As Gonzo as it gets at Jupiter Well camping area (non-alcoholic beer there)

Princess Parrots when they were new. Ink does age and spread a bit.

I can look down at the name, Ficedula mugimaki and be back on Cocos Island on the grass staring into the foliage to see that beautiful flycatcher as it flitted about. It was the same spot where I got excellent looks at an Eyebrowed Thrush. Its name, Turdus obscurus, is also on my skin.

There is Ficedula mugimai above the Rufous Scrubbird (another great memory)

Yes, I can tell you stories of every bird on my arms. They are all birds I have seen in Australia and are all very special to me, special enough to be made a permanent a part of me. I have already written about them somewhere. Whether on social media, in this blog, or in my books (which were based on these blog posts). So I will stop writing and look through my photos for which pictures to use to accompany the words. Here are some photos of my birder ink.

Not all are bird tattoos, but I owe them all to birds. I was birding on Christmas Island and got to snorkel with Whale Sharks.  

The Papuan Hornbill that rekindled my ink. The Mega of all megas, I love that bird so much.

I was so very happy with this design for the Northern Rockhopper Penguin. It is just what I hoped for. 

In Zac's studio 22 May 2024

My b;rd tattoo. As they say, if you know, you know.

The quote borrowed from John Buchan about fishing adapted to birding. It is birding too (and I love that compass rose)

Stay weird my friends ❤️

Bird Words Inspirations

Sometime in 2006 or 2008 (I cannot remember) I first read the book, “The Big Twitch” by Sean Dooley. As I mentioned in An Australian Birding Year, it was one of the contributing factors in my becoming a birder in Australia. I was fascinated with the places he had gone and the birds he had seen. I never dreamt that I would ever get to some of the places he had gone and see some of the birds he saw. I have now been to almost everywhere in Australian that he went in his book and more.

I’ve seen Princess Parrots in the North Gibson Desert which he described as being “as beautiful as they are rare”. He did not try for them during his big year because he said, “They live about as far from anywhere as you can go and still be on Earth”. Well, I have seen them, thanks to Bernie O’Keefe’s organising our little expedition. 

Princess Parrots in the N. Gibson Dessert near Jupiter Well

During his year, Sean went up the Torres Strait to the Australian islands that are close to PNG. I never, ever thought I would be able to do that trip. No, not if it was ever so. But thanks to Richard Baxter, last March I spent a glorious week on up there (read back in these Blogs to March 2024). The only bird that remembered from the Torres Strait chapter in Sean’s book was the Red-capped Flowerpecker. When I first read his book, I had never heard of a Flowerpecker, red-capped or otherwise. And now I’ve seen two. One in the mangrove jungles of Boigu Island and one up a little river on Saibai Island. So when I got back to Lara, I reread the section in Sean’s book about his trip in the Torres Strait. 

Heading up the Torres Strait

Sunsetting in the Torres Strait

Jame's photo of the Red-capped Flowerpecker over the river on Saibai Island, QLD

  

Saibai Island river

Fashionable on Boigu Island having seen the Red-capped Flowerpecker for the first time. 

That was wonderful. I could picture the places I had first read about over fifteen years ago. I had now seen them for myself. Because of words. Bird words.

I hope that people who have read my books will do the same sort of thing. Share the Gonzo.

Stay weird my friends ❤️

Staying Weird ~ More Gonzo

Quoting a lengthy, but excellent online review of the book, “Freak Kingdom: Hunter S. Thompson's Manic Ten-Year Crusade Against American Fascism”...

“Thompson would have been the ideal journalist for this moment. There are almost none whose writings have aged this well. HST would have seen through every ounce of Trump's bullshit in a nanosecond”

And HST came up with the perfect phrase for the new right-wing. He referred to them as, “the New Dumb” before ever they wore red hats to identify themselves. That is Gonzo knowledge. 

Hunter S Thompson (internet photo)

Gonzo knowledge is real knowledge. It is unafraid to consider facts and speak from them. Facts that are indeed facts. I live on Earth One where facts are based on truth and science and honest observation.

Honest observation is how I bird as well (I will write much more about that later, but this is getting really long). It is also how I write, although it is mostly personal observation of myself and my “hope to cope” existence. 

If you follow along, I have renamed this blog using the tagline: “Gonzo Birder ~ Stay Weird My Friends”. I have written lately about Gonzo Birding and being a Gonzo Geezer. I am getting comfortable with the word and possibly with being the Gonzo Birder.

There is a Muppet named Gonzo. He is very different from Hunter S Thompson who, I am learning more and more was an utterly brilliant journalistic writer. I used to let HST's enthusiasm for guns taint my opinion of him. I should have read more of his work.

The Muppet named Gonzo, entirely different thing

But I also love the Muppets. I live in Australia where the flora and fauna really can look as if it were created in a collaboration between Jim Henson and Dr Suess (Theodor Geisel is a particular hero and influence of mine). Geisel was gonzo before the word was in use.

I also whole-heartedly embrace the word, Geezer in relation to me. Never, ever give me that “years young” bullshit. I am 70 years old. I am a Geezer, I am a Gonzo Geezer.

Gonzo Geezer at home and in the Tattoo studio. I have 21 bird tattoos. Gonzo.

I was somewhat reluctant to refer to myself as 'the Gonzo Birder', but I am slowly working toward doing that in my writing. Putting that ‘the’ in front of anything makes what follows sound a bit grandiose. I am way too f-ing insecure to be tossing around self-aggrandisement. 

   

Less than 24 hours out of hospital I got a Lifer, American Golden Plover. That is Gonzo Birding

However in personal-growth land, at 70 plus, I am finally learning to appreciate some of who I am. It does not mean that I particularly like me. No, not if it was ever so. I keep a healthy level of self-loathing percolating below the surface most of the time, BUT I have learned to at least respect more of my accomplishments. My own validation tends to be the proverbial water off a duck’s back, but not a Cormorant’s back. They have feathers that they can easily water-log which allows them to dive deeper to get food. I love science, but I am going off track here. As I do. 

I also love my birder ink. Here are a few of the new ones. I have twenty-one bird tattoos on my arms. Permanent validation in ink.

The newest is one of the 'oldest' Urodynamis tattensis (Long-tailed Cuckoo from way back in Nov 2015)

Speaking of off-track, here is a bit of validation that I can’t really grok. I was on a Zoom call recently with a production company in New York City who contacted me because they are planning to use one of my songs in a play. A Manhattan production company using one of my songs in a real play. Yes, really. There are legalities and forms involved, but those will get sorted somehow but not by me.

New York City

No, I won’t be able to understand them. Not if it was ever so. One of the biggest downfalls in my life is, and I will quote me, “I create, I do not business.” 

My 1968 one owner (me) D-18 on which the songs were written. My business machine and I did work hard.

You see, the word “business” can be a verb in my world. I just don’t do it. I will work, but I don't business. Sometimes I am forced to attempt it, but I totally suck at it. And doing ‘business’ has gotten more difficult. It is more and more technology based. My ADHD brain goes monkey shit.

So yeah, one of my songs is to be in play produced by a NYC production company. Kind of difficult for me to wrap my head around, but now I have written about it, thus making it a bit more real. My God, if I did not have my writing, I would go more insane. So I write. Thanks for reading.

Stay weird my friends ❤️

Gonzo Birding and Gonzo Geezer

Let me define Gonzo Birding. It is birding in an extreme and or, unconventional way. It is appreciating birds at a level, and in ways that may be different from, and certainly regardless of, other people and birders.  

Gonzo Birding is whatever one wants out of birding for themselves. It's putting one's own brand of weird in their birding. In short: It is allowing your own, authentic weird to flow into your birding however that can work for you.

The official Gonzo Geezer cardigan. I have owned this wonderful sweater for over 30 years. It is a heavy, cotton, shawl-neck cardigan. I added this photo today on 1 May because it is the Gonzo Geezer sweater (for me anyway- all things gonzo are our own).

Screen cap from inside first pages of MABT

Gonzo Birding is a thing whether you know it or not... it's actually more of a thing if you don't know it. This is the Gonzo Birding paradox.

Understand? Then you don’t. Gonzo Birding is like quantum physics or the Tao. If you think you know it, you don’t. I came up with it and I don’t know and therefore I do. As I said, this is the Gonzo Birder Paradox. 

Gonzo Birding in the Pyrenees, Catalonia 2011

Richard Baxter's shot of me on Christmas Island December 2022 definitely Gonzo.

I am also learning to embrace my Gonzo Geezer because I am one full-stop. In the opening pages of my second book, I quoted Hunter S Thompson’s, “When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.” And I wrote: “When the going gets weird, the weird go birding.” It is what I have done and continue to do. I am even weirder than any of you know and I have let y’all know a lot about my weird. Yes, my weird is a noun. 

This morning I shared a meme that said, “You don’t become cooler with age, but you care progressively less about being cool, which is the only true way of being cool. This is called the Geezer’s Paradox.” 

Stolen from the internet

I dig the word, “Geezer” because it is a time in my life when it is essential that I do. I am beginning to accept, understand and live being old better. I am only beginning, because as with all things, it is a process. It’s the journey, not the destination. These old truths remain true. There’s that word, “old”. Hunter Thompson was 67 when he made his exit from this earthly plane. Well played Hunter. He was finished and he knew it and left. I do not begrudge anyone their exit. If it is their choice it is their choice. 

Gonzo Geezer Granddaddy being shown his nose

Speaking of exits, I am going to continue writing about this today and in the future, but I am stopping at this point to share these words on my blog. There will be additional words about this, and possible edits and additions to this post (I just did).

And here is the t-shirt from BRDR MRCH on Redbubble GONZO BRDR  

I am also more excited about writing than I have been in a while. 

Sending love as I do ❤️

American Golden Plover ~ Gonzo Birder

American Golden Plover yawning with its tongue out

On Thursday, 18 April I had checked into St John of God hospital for a surgical procedure. I spent the first fifty or so years of my life without having any procedures. Those were the days. 

This was not a ‘big’ procedure, but it required general anaesthesia. They told me it went well and that I did not need a hospital sleepover. I was back home in the early evening, feeling pleasantly dopey, but experiencing some discomfort (i.e. pain). Nothing unexpected. It was time to rest and recover. I had a quiet night.

Friday morning I was up for a while, but went back to bed, and to sleep, before noon. Around 3pm I woke up enough to notice I had a message from James. I rang him and I learned that there was an American Golden Plover being reported at the Borrow Pit in the WTP only two hours ago. It would be an Aussie Lifer for me. I had to go. I mean seriously, I had no choice.

I grabbed my bins and my new/old camera, and dashed out the door (dashed is subjective). At the Avalon Airport exit, I realised I had forgotten my key to the WTP. I drove back to the house.

Regardless of this maddening detour, I was at the Borrow Pits looking at the beautiful American Golden Plover just after 4pm. Joy! A totally unexpected Lifer twenty-four hours out of hospital. Gonzo Birding. That is new phrase that I may begin using. It fits my birding in a lot of ways. Maybe I am the Gonzo Birder. Here are my first Aussie Lifer looks at the AGP at the WTP.

Other birders were there and as the word got out, more birders came. Some left work early in Melbourne and hurried down. This was an opportunity to see the first American Golden Plover in breeding plumage seen in Australia, thus making for very positive identification. Identification of an American Golden Plover without any drama. And believe me, there can be a lot of drama in non-breeding bird identification. 

I am also an American (expat) in Australia but I am certainly not in breeding plumage. And at this point it is highly unlikely that I ever will be again, haha.& I took a few recording shots with my new/old camera and was driving home after about 15 minutes. A mega twitch done and dusted. 

Except that James had not seen the bird.

The next morning at 9:18am, I collected him at the Lara Station and we dashed over. And dash we did. Soon he was looking at the bird with quite a few other birders. We hadn’t had a ‘mega’ at the WTP since the Black Tern a year ago. And one of the best parts of a twitch was in full swing. It is the feeling that I call Lifer High. People were smiling, laughing, giggling, joking, hugging and just being naturally high as only birders can be about a life bird. Shared Lifer High is the best and there was a lot of it going on.

Someone else's photo in wide-angle, I am on the left taking photos

We saw some dear friends, but left fairly quickly so that James could catch the train back to Melbourne. He had plans for later that arvo. I did consider going back over, but unbelievably I was still not 48 hours out of hospital. I went home and took a long afternoon nap.

Sunday I had other plans already in place, but I heard that the AGP was seen well all day. So Monday morning, I took advantage of the closeness of the WTP to my house and I drove (no need to dash) over just before sunrise. I even took a few phone pics of the early morning. I love sunrises and sunsets and do not make the time to see them very often anymore, not by myself. Doing things alone is not my way. No, not if it was ever so. I need to share full stop. It is life to me. Which is why I am tapping out these words on this tired-ass laptop and why I so deeply appreciate those of you who read them. Thank you.

I was the first one at the Borrow Pits and the bird was waiting for me. I had that mega-rarity all to myself for at least fifteen minutes. Brace yourself, here come a bunch of AGP photos.

Yes, there was Lifer Pie

Soon more birders arrived. I saw my dear friend Kris Bernard who I had not seen in quite while. And again, there was much shared Lifer High. Joy. I do love, I need, to share, but I thoroughly enjoyed my bit of 'alone time' with that bird. We were both 'Americans' in the Land Down Under. Although I seriously doubt that the Plover will become a Permanent Resident.

Sending love as I do ❤️