This Is Gonna Hurt: Music, Photography and Life Through the Distorted Lens of Nikki Sixx (16 page)

1. You can always renegotiate your life.

Nothing is written in stone until you die. You absolutely can renegotiate with yourself. You are allowed to change your mind. At any given time. Meaning:

You don
’
t need to live where you live.

You don
’
t have to be unhappy. (Nobody is holding a gun to your head.)

You don
’
t need to stay married if you want a divorce.

You don
’
t need to keep up with the Joneses and you don
’
t need to feel
bad about not liking where you have ended up in life.

Just renegotiate and change the facts.

Or, in other words, grow some balls.

Get on with it already. If you obey every time someone says you can
’
t
do this or you must do that,
you will become the person you

NEVER WANTED to be.

Simply renegotiate.

2. Love the ones who hurt you.

Love those who hurt you the most, because they are probably the ones closest to you.

They, too, are on a path, and just like you they are learning to walk before they can fly. Imagine if everybody you hurt in life turned their backs on you? You would be playing a hell of a lot of solitaire.

Love them no matter what.

3. Be inspired by all walks of life.

I will open a book, any book, on any given day and turn to a random page. Blindly point and start to read. I will finish a paragraph and then stop. That will be my inspiration for the day. Dictionaries are wonderful for randomly finding new words. Use it and you will be inspired, and you will inspire others.

I wake up and the first thing that pops into my brain is “I can’t wait to see what happens today!” I am always amazed at the little adventures that happen next. I used to miss these moments because I was so up in my own head that I couldn’t see what was happening right before my eyes. Now, I’m always ready to be inspired. And when that happens, a lyric or an idea for a photo usually come to mind.

4. Pay attention to your instinct.

A killer instinct will save your life. Instinct will navigate you through life until the final bell rings.

Learn to trust it. It is your friend.

Shut out the noise in your head and you will hear what your gut is telling you. Instinct never lies. Though sometimes your head does. I know we all have the ability to tune into ourselves. Some of us use it to our advantage and some use it to other people’s disadvantage (yes, I’m back to the killer’s instinct analogy, but can’t that be positive, to know that monster inside of you?).

5. Don’t neglect your death.

Need I say more? OK, I will. Without living life to the hilt, death will be a huge waste of time. (That’s sorta funny, actually.)

Don’t waste your death on a half-assed life.

Go for it.

Be a rock star or a plumber.

Be an athlete or a TV repairman.

Live on an island and sell hot dogs, or live in New York City and run the biggest investment bank in the world.

Do what you want. Not what your mom, your wife, your dad, or your friends want.

If you truly are happy in what you do, you’re gonna kick the living shit outta life, and death will be a happy, well-earned sleep.

Every word I read, every breath I take, every moment of every day always somehow inspires me and eventually turns into a song or a photograph. Either the ones in these pages, the ones in my vault, or the ones in my head that I haven’t shot yet.

Are you feeling inspired by your life? It’s funny what can inspire you. The fateful night of my near-fatal drug overdose years ago, and my recovery, have shown me how fragile life really is. I love to pass on my passion for it whenever I can and show people how to squeeze every last drop outta life.

Again I ask, are you feeling inspired by your life?

LOVE
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LIFE
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SIAMESE
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TALE OF THE SIAMESE TWINS AND THE BLACK ROSE TATTOO

M
y first tattoo was a black rose on my right arm. The year was 1981.

Years later, a friend named Pearl Aday (Meat Loaf’s daughter) asked if I wanted to meet a tattoo artist named Kat Von D. She said we were so much alike that even if it wasn’t a love match, we would be great friends. I said, “No thanks, love stinks,” but took her number anyway. Maybe someday I’d need another tattoo.

Katherine von Drachenberg was unattached at the time, not that this was the point. I never called her, nor she me. But I did text her here and there—friendly, nothing more. I found her witty and interesting, and we were in the buddy zone for sure.

Divorce completely eats up your time (and money) and I was knee-deep in it, as well as in
Heroin Diaries,
both book and album. Royal Underground, the clothing line I had started, was growing slowly and needed tons of love. Unlike me. Or, if I did need love, I didn’t notice. My family always comes first, then work, then me time. And there definitely wasn’t any extra time on the clock then, for me or anybody else.

So one day I was texting Katherine (as I call her). At this point she was happily in love with a boy, but even though she and I still had not met, I sensed something was wrong. I asked if everything was OK and she did as she always does, saying, “Everything is fine.” I knew it wasn’t, and yet I also knew it wasn’t my place to probe.

A few weeks later I planned to finally visit her shop on La Brea in Hollywood. I had heard what an amazing tattooer she was, truly one of the world’s greats, and, being a lover of fine tattoos and artists, I asked her if we could collaborate on a design for me.

TILL DEATH DO US PART
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KATHERINE
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Dj Ashba and I had spent the day at a music convention, signing autographs and looking at new recording software. The convention center hot dogs and Red Bulls were wearing off fast, and we were starving. A few quick text messages to Katherine while we were heading up the 405 and dinner was set. We would pick her up at her shop and head to The Lodge in Hollywood for steaks galore.

This was the first time I had met her face-to-face, and the first thing I noticed was how beautiful she was. Striking like a movie star from the ’40s coupled with a tall and imposing presence. We had become friends through technology, and I had no intention of it being anything else. I do not believe she did either. She had a boyfriend, and I had a huge mistrust of women. It seemed like a friendship forged in perfection. Dj will tell you sparks were flying but I didn’t see any. I am also blind as a bat when it’s convenient.

At the restaurant, sitting with her and Dj, I pulled out my business card and handed it over.

I had grown so sick of people asking me, based on how I look, if I were “in a band” that I just would say, “No, I am a tattoo artist.” At first, people would go “Oh,” then shrug and wander off, uninterested all of a sudden. That worked until
L A Ink
and other tattoo shows started popping up on TV. People began equating tattoo artists with celebrity and would ask me where my shop was or if I was on a show. Some even had begun to ask if I had a card.

So, long before I met Katherine, I had some business cards made up that said: