Born in 1969, Sardinian by nature and Milanese by adoption, Tattoo Artist Pietro Sedda studied stage design at the Brera Academy and, at the age of thirty, after having explored the world as a visual artist and interior designer, he de- voted himself to tattoo art in London and Urbino.
In 2010 he came back to Milan and opened The Saint Mariner, where he poured all the aesthetic and cultural experiences gathered during his wandering.
He quickly became a point of reference for other tattoo artists for the freshness and modernity of his works, in constant development, the result of a steady reworking of what he sees and experiences day by day in Milan, and worldwide in the frequent exploratory travels that he captures with his camera, creating a new chapter of his biography.
An enquiring mind and an artist with a remarkable personality, he is always open to new professional challenges within the world that surrounds him. Since 2010 he collaborated with many fashion and design brands and took part in other side projects.
It is impossible to know who you are, even less so your soul. But a good sailor recognizes himself when he is in the middle of the storm, because for him, unlike us saints, the only mystery remains the sea itself. This is where the research of Saint Mariner starts: we are all saints but we are all mariners. Or rather, we can all also be mariners. Because we feel ourselves living other people’s lives, in- completely, as if our being participated in all men’s be- ing, incompletely. So Saint Mariner travels in time, in the soul of the eet- ing moment, without fear. He has no taste, because taste is repetition, he always oats to discover new paths, he does not repeat himself. This no, never. Saint Mariner is unpredictable, he plays, with discrete awareness, with the desires of men, without them some- times knowing it. Saint Mariner has no class, but he makes the difference, because he illuminates the others’s fantasies. Saint Mariner is where everything can be, where everything is probable, where the others do not find aesthetic answers. He feeds himself with the incomplete.