a body of work is just a body


a body of work is just a body is the first part of a larger production of texts around the transformative power, politics and limits of practices of body-modification, including those of tattoo, transition and decay. in this text, i talk about the affects and effects of tattooing my faher for two years and twenty tattoos.  

what does it mean to apply, again and
again, everlasting results of my queer
labor onto my father’s skin? what does
the new financial relation that binds us
in this commercial transaction change or re-affirm of our faher-son relationship? what familial and gendered hierarchies do we disrupt, if any? do we create new ones? who’s profiting off of who? 

is this what allyship looks like?

trust, ego , boundaries. 
touch, pain,satisfaction.

is this payback? is this love?

isn’t getting a tattoo quite like going to the
shrink? well, if that’s true, i might have
embarked on an unplanned family
therapy journey with my father. 

what’s best, i’m taking you with me.
For “Tattoo Marathon”, an assembly of people to practice tattoo as a queer community health technology. With community tattooing, we aim to take control over our bodies, our experiences of pain and pleasure, and our approaches to harm reduction.
performance
60’
athens museum of queer art
2023


I’m sitting on my stool, he’s laying on the table.
Everything neatly organised before the mess begins.
Are you ready - to open up?
A question addressed to mind and skin alike.
A confirmation and I’m going in.
A soft buzzing noise as the third character in the scene, voltage translated into frequencies.
We have everything here, solids, liquids and intangible.
Cups hold inks, fingers hold machine, furniture holds bodies.
Flesh holds all it’s given.