Postcards.

For every tattooers, painting is where our imagination can be let a bit wild. We don't have the constrain of the commission, and we can experiment as much as we like.
At the moment there are two projects I am working at: one of this is postcards.
I visit from time to time vintage shops to find old used postcards. The older the better.
I love re-writing what has already belonged to someone else, and I enjoy creating images that somehow dialogue with the canvas I am using.
Before doing postcards I was drawing (and I still do) on the cover of vintage music partitures: playing with the interactions between the title/fonts/layout and the images that float in my mind.
Generally speaking are faces and hands: I just have a sort of obsession with them.
They are personae, simulacra, you can hide everything behind: like the celluloids frame of a movie, they don't need any explanation, they are bodies per se', and yet ground of the representation of self.

...One had to dispense with the body, with the very idea of the body. The body was born in Plato's cave, or rather it was conceived and shaped in the form of the cave: as a prison or tomb of the soul, and the body first was thought from the inside, as buried darkness into which light only penetrates in the form of reflections, and reality only in the form of shadows. This body is seen from the inside, as in the common but anguishing fantasy of seeing the mother's body from the inside, as in the fantasy of inhabiting one's own belly, without father or mother, before any father and bother, before all sex and all reproduction, and of getting hold of oneself there, as a nocturnal eye open to a world of chains and simulacra. This body is first and interiority dedicated to images, and to the knowledge of images; it is the "inside" of representation, and at the same time the representation of that "inside."

"Corpus," - J.L. Nancy 

Anyway, enough ramblings, here some pic...