Michael Moya: The Man Who Turned His Worst Nightmares Into a Full-Body Tattoo Masterpiece

Music executive, fashion entrepreneur, and creative powerhouse Michael Moya has spent his life defying expectations. Sharp-spoken, driven, and relentlessly curious, he built a multifaceted career across music publishing, entertainment, and high-end fashion. But even with all his accomplishments, the most unforgettable thing about Moya isn’t his business portfolio — it’s his body.

Moya is nearly fully covered in insect tattoos: spiders spilling from his ribs, beetles peeking from torn flesh, maggots crawling through open wounds. The imagery is intense, sometimes unsettling, but the meaning behind it is deeply personal. It’s not about shock — it’s about survival.

As a teenager, Moya faced a traumatic misdiagnosis that changed everything.

“I was told I might have cancer. I was going through dialysis. My arm was black and bloody from being poked every day,” he recalls. “I was terrified — of needles, of insects, of dying.”

During that vulnerable period, Moya suffered vivid nightmares of bugs eating away at his body. For years, he avoided anything that reminded him of those images. But eventually, he made a radical decision that would define the rest of his life.

“One day I told myself: I’m going to face everything that scares me,” he says. “So I studied insects. I read about their meaning — transformation, rebirth, protection. And then I started tattooing them on my body.”

What began as an act of defiance transformed into a spiritual practice.

Moya’s tattoos became symbolic armor, a way to reclaim the fears that once held him hostage. 

“I turned my nightmares into protection,” he explains.

Over the last 30 years, top tattoo artists helped build the intricate biomechanical universe across his body. Many pieces depict his skin appearing to tear open, revealing swarms beneath. The effect is dramatic — but for Moya, it’s therapeutic.

People often ask when he’ll stop getting tattooed. His answer is always the same:

“Probably the day I die. As long as I’m incomplete, I’m still fighting.”

Despite the haunting imagery, Moya laughs about the irony of it all. 

“I hate insects. All of them. If one shows up in my house, I’m moving out and it can take the mortgage,” he jokes.

But it’s precisely that contradiction that makes his story so powerful. His tattoos aren’t an aesthetic. They’re a philosophy. A lifelong message about confronting the things that break us — and choosing to rebuild stronger.

For Michael Moya, tattoos aren’t decoration. They’re a battle fought in ink. A record of fears conquered. And proof that sometimes, the most beautiful art grows from the darkest memories.