Ink & Verse

Yoyo Comay, AKA Screen Memory

“Tattooing wasn’t the obvious path—it was the one that revealed itself.”

A poet and musician at heart, Yoyo’s artistic journey began in the sea of words. While finishing a master’s degree in creative writing at the University of Toronto, he released a poetry book in 2020 called “States of Emergency”, but the question of making a living from art loomed large. “I was always hoping it would come through some kind of artistic practice,” he says. “Tattooing, weirdly, felt accessible—even though I had no visual art background.”

Now, just over an year into his tattooing career, Yoyo is immersed in the craft, balancing artistic expression with the physicality and permanence of ink. Shaped by influences as varied as Renaissance and medieval art, religious iconography, and the philosophy of tattooing itself.

His father taught at an art school, and growing up, museums were familiar territory. He spent years immersed in creative projects—writing, music, poetry—each consuming him fully before leading to the next. "I fully immerse myself in whatever creative pursuit I'm obsessed in. At one point, it was music, then poetry. Now, my focus is on tattooing."

Yoyo’s approach to tattoo design semi-mirrors the way a DJ curates a set—piecing together elements to create something cohesive, yet sometimes unexpected. “A lot of what I do is collage. Sometimes it’s about distorting and reshaping elements, other times it’s more subtle—blending different pieces into something new.” His inspirations pull from religious texts, gothic aesthetics, and the raw, moody energy that shapes both the essence of that era and the way some of us Romanized it.

There’s a depth to his designs—an introspection that makes the figures he inks feel like they are thinking, existing beyond the surface of the skin. “My favorite tattoos are the ones where the figure has a sense of interiority,” he explains. “Where you feel like there’s something more.”

Beyond aesthetics, Yoyo is drawn to the ritualistic nature of tattooing. Influenced by religious imagery and scripture, he sees tattooing as more than just body art—it’s a process, a passage. Religious iconography has long captivated him, carrying a sense of mystery and power in its metaphors and visual language. That same depth of meaning translates into the experience of getting tattooed. For many, tattoos serve as talismans of strength or reminders of resilience. The pain itself becomes part of the process, something to endure and overcome—an experience that lingers beyond the ink.

His own philosophy, shaped by legendary artists like Filip Leu and Guy Aitchison, emphasizes both the technical mastery of large-scale compositions and the organic flow of designs that complement the body's natural form. Leu’s ambitious full-body tattoos inspired him to focus on large-scale work, and Aitchison’s teachings on designing tattoos that move with the body have influenced his approach to composition. “I haven’t done a bodysuit yet,” he says, “but I’ve worked on back pieces, and I love thinking about how a tattoo interacts with the body on a larger scale.” Though Yoyo’s style differs from theirs, their influence has guided his approach to balance, detail, and the storytelling potential of ink.

You readjust to your own visualization of yourself, how you see yourself, self-perception. Strength. Tattoos are a lot like armor, a visual marking of “I totally enjoy walking topless in a festival and having a fully-tattooed torso.” - Filip Leu

Navigating the space between artistic freedom and client expectations is a constant process. Over time, Yoyo has learned that the best work often emerges when clients trust him to interpret their ideas rather than dictate every detail. Many arrive with a concept, but what they’re truly looking for is a starting point. Presenting something unexpected—something they hadn’t considered—often leads to results that exceed their imagination.

That trust is what allows a tattoo to become something greater than just an image—it transforms into an experience, a collaboration between artist and client. “People come to me because they like my aesthetic,” he says. “I’ve had to learn to embrace and trust that.”

Over time, he has come to see tattoos as more and more as adornments—marks that exist primarily for the wearer’s relationship to them, rather than the meaning they might assign to others. “When I look at my own tattoos in the mirror, I don’t think about the story I told myself when I got them,” he admits. “It’s more about how they fit, how they look as part of me, and the session experience.”

His work leans toward gothic and moody aesthetics—dark, a little rough, with a sense of introspection. He enjoys intricate details and texture but is also experimenting with bolder contrasts and heavier blocks of black ink.

“I like when I can step back 10 feet and still see the strength of the design,” he reflects. “I’m trying to explore more boldness while still keeping that fine, stretched texture.”

Tattooing has become his primary creative pursuit, but balancing it with poetry and music remains a challenge. Unlike his past artistic endeavors, tattooing requires consistency. It’s no longer just an outlet—it’s also a profession. Figuring out how to maintain space for his other creative passions is still a work in progress.

Yet one thing remains constant: his art, in whatever form it takes, is about creating something meaningful. Whether through poetry, music, or tattoos, his work carries a sense of mystery, depth, and emotional weight. Each design is more than ink—it’s a story, a presence, and a reflection of the quiet introspection that defines his artistry.

@screen__memory