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S: When you first come along you change a lot, don't you? Then you slow down - I'm giving a general answer, but I think it's true. And then you doubt yourself, and you think you're not changing, and then maybe sometimes you don't change...you need to look at yourself to see that you're changing in more subtle and deeper ways as you get more subtle and deeper. Would you not agree, from your own experience? E: I suppose my experience of you is that you've changed and become less 'crazy' in the past couple of years, and I was wondering whether you think that's true, and if so why? S: Well, I think I'm changing and all the rest of it, but I think it's because I've been ill for a couple of years, and when you're ill you're faced with death more and that changes you. It makes you quieter or more introverted. And also, as I've come to live and hide more within my little hole at Dean Clough, I've become more of a hermit in a certain way. Although I do think I see more people, I do keep in contact with people. E: Does that link in with what you think your role is in the Leeds Sangha? S: Not just within the Leeds Sangha, I think I have a particular view of things because I'm not involved in the formal structures of the institution. I am very much part of the Movement but from a bit of a ... either looking from down in a ditch or looking from a certain angle. The way I see my role is - I'm on a hillside and I throw rocks at ... erm... it happens to be Rijumitra and Samanartha at the moment. I'm outside things enough to erm steer ... and I do think I've got a particularly clear view on general issues and what's going on, that people seem to recognise and respect, you know. E: What's the significance of your tattoos; you've got the word “Jesus” on one hand and “Buddha” on the other. Isn’t that a bit odd for a Buddhist? S: Well, I was brought up an Irish Roman Catholic. I'm called Sahaja so that's a Buddhist name, I got involved with Buddhism when I was 15. E: What does Sahaja mean? S: 'Natural, authentic'. I was brought up with working class iconography. I come from a pretty working class, mad, crazy, dysfunctional Irish Roman Catholic family. I took loads of drugs when I was a teenager and got involved in the movement. It's just a certain angle on things: tattoos, drugs, smoking, welding, playing cards, you know, pirate ships and anchors and all that sort of crazy ... slightly the underdog, the underbelly, the flip side, the rash beneath the skin, sort of thing. So there's all that going on. When I was having that Jesus tattooed on my arm, like Jesus came through me, man, you know what I'm saying? (Laughter). I don't know, I can't really answer that question. I mean, why have I got Godzilla and King-Kong on my arm as well? E: Yeah? S: It's not just Jesus and Buddha, it's like Jesus and Godzilla and Kong and the Buddha. Why is all that going on? Don't ask me, mate. So, “isn't that odd for a Buddhist?”- well what is a Buddhist? What is odd? What are we trying to do with our lives? Aren't we trying to unpack or understand - and understanding isn't always verbal or conscious. You know, when you go on the mythic context retreat, or late at night when you're sweating and you're on your own in bed and you're shit scared, or when you're sitting down having a cup of tea and you're away from all the clatter and all the people asking you stupid questions (laughs) - no offence! - but all of us, what are we? We're just grubby little bits of flesh that's got some sort of thing we call a brain, and emotions, and reactions, and all the rest of it - we're a quivering mess. We're giblets walking round on legs, that's what we are (laughter). It's like, we've got to do what we've got to do, and I don't understand half the things I've got to do, but I had to do it. I've got loads of rings on, and I seem to be wearing my rings at the moment, but every now and again I take them off. Every now and again I dread my hair, every now and again I shave my hair off. I don't understand any of that - it's about finding boundaries, and recognising stuff. Maybe I'm an artist and, well, that's what artists do. So I don't think it's odd at all. In fact, I think you should be doing shit like that if you're a Buddhist, or your version of that. If you're not doing your version of that, I'll say, well, isn't that odd? E: Being yourself, do you find that people around you act a funny way, because of the way you're being? S: Oh yeah, yeah. You get two different reactions; people either think you're brilliant, and you're some sort of weird Tantric guru, or they think you're dead weird and uncouth - and in a way, I am both of those things, but I'm not either of those things either. At the end of the day people individually have got to sort their own shit out. People need to get on with their own lives really, you know, it's like, this is my life and if I'm loud, if I'm charismatic, if I'm uncouth, I bring all that to the grave with me. I fall over the cliff and I'm biting Kong and Godzilla right to the end, I'm down there, that's my myth. And if I choose to play it up, well, I'm going to bring that with me. If I choose to ignore it and play it down and pretend it's not happening, I'll also bring that with me. So I've got to sort my Kong and my Jesus, my Godzilla and my Buddha, my whatever it is I'm doing, out. That's what takes you there. And people have got to do their versions; and if people are more subtle, or more middle-class, or more English, or more priss, or more this, or more that ... they've got to find out what their myths are. You've got to find out what you are. E: How do you get nourished? S: By life itself. E: But you must contemplate something within life that actually has meaning? S: But you contemplate your reaction to life itself. E: So that's all of life, you mean? S: Well, that's the only thing that makes sense, when it comes down to it. What are you going to do, go round talking about Buddhism, Buddhism, Buddhism, the Dharma, Dharma, Dharma, Bhante, Bhante, Bhante all the time - what does that mean? What does that mean? I don't do a practice sadhana and all that sort of stuff, I just don't relate to working in that way. I think I’m quite a nihilistic, existentialist type of thinker, for want of a better word. I've had to work hard against being nihilistic. Earlier on in this interview you were saying that I seem to have changed in the past couple of years and got a bit softer or something and I said it's partly because I've been ill but it's also because I'm changing and I’ve recognised this very strong nihilistic, negative, existentialist, the end of the world, doom and gloom, there's no light at the end of the tunnel, and that's where I'm coming from on a certain level but I don't let it rule the roost. Or if it is ruling the roost at a particular time, I make sure that I'm not too damaged by it, or I recover from it afterwards. So I've learnt how to deal with carrying that brute of a demon around. Because that is definitely a part of my psyche. But it has shifted. E: So if you don't do Metta Bhavana and mindfulness, or a traditional sadhana practice, how do you move away from that dark demon? S: Because I think I'm generally aware all the time; I'm leading an active life, I'm creating stuff, I've got a vision; in order to squat in this place for getting on two years now, I've had to have the determination to say, 'This is what I want to do, I've got a purpose'. So to have that amount of power, I think there's a hell of a lot of steam and commitment within my being moving forward, and I think you do need to have something bigger than your own nihilistic experience to take you through that. Maybe when I'm 50 or 60 I might start meditating or something. E: So have you got any idea where you're going to be and what you want to be doing in 10 years' time? S: Well, I reckon I've got another good 10 years left to work, depending on my health. I think I'm at the peak of my working on a certain level. I could produce a lot of really interesting work in this next 10 years, so what I've been trying to do is get the funds together to get somewhere that I can live and work. And, you know, from a more spiritual point of view (but almost more normal), I just want to get more confident in myself, just more relaxed, take time out, have holidays. I've had an extreme life and I think I need to have less of an extreme life. E: Could you see yourself changing medium, like dropping the metal, so that you could actually live and work somewhere; you might just be using clay or paper or something? S: Yes, I've always said when the time comes I'll drop it. About 5 or 6 years ago, I got into writing poetry about Vajrasattva. I think I'd make a good writer, so I wouldn't mind writing a book or doing some more poems, but I want to get a little computer for that, a little word processor. Because sculpture takes so long, I've still got too many ideas, you know, it's like when I die there's going to be a backlog of ideas in my corpse waiting to go to the next life. E: I’ve heard it said if you really want to be an artist, you can't avoid but do it, because you fall to pieces if you don't do your art. Do you think that's true in your case? S: Well, if I didn't weld I'd be drawing, if I didn't draw I'd be writing, if I didn't write I’d be scribbling things, I'm always doing something. So what I'm saying is you’re doing it all the time, and being an artist you're just much more in touch with it. I don't meditate, I don't take part in all that stuff but actually I'm very, very alive when it comes to being aware of creating and things like that. If people want to make sense of my life, they can come and look at my art; and if you look round this studio there's 10 years' worth of work in here, that's got to say something.
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