I was born on November 27, 1973. This is my real date of birth. I will never hide my age.

I am a multimedia artist in AnimaeNoctis duo. 

I am not a bourgeois. My ancestors were countrymen and tailors.

I trust G-D. I trust Jesus Christ.

I am ashamed of the poems I published before 2016. I lacked mental alertness. My syntax was arbitrarily scattered and futile. I don't mean that every twisted syntax derives from psychiatric pain. I am only saying this was my case. So I repudiate the poems I made and the positive critical feedback they had. I apologize to all the sincere admirers I had.

The only poetic phase I want to be read is this. My poetry and prose works in my mothertongue are self-published.

I was also a fastidious scholar of Mediaeval literature and a consulting editor. My Mediaeval essays and books don't belong in my current life-work. 

I am no more used to be a scholar and an editor. I can't stand the desperate incorporeal poet I was in the years 2001-2013. Fuck the past.

I left Italy after the COVID-19 pandemic.

I will not persevere in hiding my sexuality. Sex is both my hub and my engine. In fact, my written art was an acceptable and stylish technique to deny my bodily life (sex, dance, performance, live music, modeling). This technique was insincere, though. 

I was severely bullied in my childhood and teens. My pesterers said I was a womanish boy: a living freaky flaw with such a sugary whispering voice. What am I, actually? A woman proud of her cock. 

My only Italian literary mentor was Edoardo Sanguineti, but I don't owe him any career help. 

My whole artsy life before the duo is an unbalanced preparation to AnimaeNoctis. I don't miss my past life. No throwback is possible.

I am married to Silvia Marcantoni Taddei.

I do not trust any totalitarian behaviour/belief/entity. 

If Communism means Antifascism, I am a Communist. If Communism means complete and lethal revolution, I am not a Communist. I can't join any act of political violence. Fuck, fuck, fuck bourgeoisie: OK, but may you kill even one fucking bourgeois?

I do not belong to any political matrix. 

I do not claim an educational qualification. Of course I have a qualification. I mean: I was used to work with it, but not now.

I think Avantgarde can be an amuseable factory.

I love the entertainment world and I have always loved it. I love the fashion world as well. The showbiz is not my enemy. I love both decorative arts and socially engaged art.

I think my body is the first test animal to experiment with. I remade my voice to perform and I experiment with it.

It takes caution not to get poisoned and not to poison others. 

My activity does not want to be the rampant witness of any system decay. I do not want to serve as the mapper of any volatile decadence. I am basically an entertainer and entertainers entice me. 

In my practice, installation and performance are not opposites. 

«It is only after you have come to know the surface of things [...] that you can venture to seek what is underneath. But the surface of things is inexhaustible» (Italo Calvino, Palomar). As an artist, I deal with the surface. I do belong in it.

My masks are not my labels. I can change my masks or avoid them at all. 

I have experienced a body that has been sick, healthy, fat, thin, muscular, vulnerable, unsexy, sexy, toothless, diagnosed with depression, awkward, athletic. I have experienced plenty of body possibilities. My different bodies looked like parts of an illusion I can barely explain. I am not the plain mapper of such things. As of now, this is the 2D me that sums up the 3D one. 

None of my images is manipulated.

Silvia and I work with international lust artists. Our art practice tends to avoid the pure fiction style. Our art items are pure up-to-date documentaries with a spicy bit of figment. We actually do what we do: deep Ἔρως + Lust + Pleasure. Apathy is the ultimate thing to deconstruct.