Before becoming a Kobido practitioner — and dedicating myself to this Japanese facial massage in Paris — I worked for twelve years in medical imaging, at the Policlinico of Milan — in the oncology department, then briefly in lung transplantation. This first life isn't separate from the one that followed: it is what taught me precision of touch, the importance of listening to the patient, and the idea that real care builds over time. Here is how I moved from imaging screens to hands placed on a face — and what that continuity means today in my practice.
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A first career in medical care
I grew up about twenty kilometres from Milan, and it was very natural for me to turn to the Policlinico, the city's large university hospital, for my career. For twelve years I worked in medical imaging — mainly in nuclear medicine, within the oncology department. I also worked briefly in lung transplantation, one of the most demanding departments in the hospital.
What I did, in practice: preparing and administering imaging examinations that help doctors diagnose, monitor the progression of a disease, and measure the effectiveness of a treatment. It is a profession that unfolds between the preparation room, the examination room and direct contact with the patient — often during difficult moments in their life. You learn very quickly that the quality of care isn't measured only by technical accuracy, but also by the way you receive the person standing in front of you.
What imaging taught me: precision, patience, listening
Three skills I built during those twelve years still serve me today, session after session.
Precision of touch. In nuclear medicine, dosing a product, positioning a patient with exactness, following a rigorous protocol — none of this tolerates approximation. It is a school of attention to detail that carries directly into manual work on a face: the right pressure, the right angle, the right duration.
Patience with what builds over time. In oncology, you learn to see a treatment as a journey, not as a single procedure. That philosophy informs the way I approach a course of Kobido: a face doesn't transform in one session, it is worked over time.
Listening to the patient before any touch. At the Policlinico, I learned that the best outcomes always come from a preliminary conversation: understanding the person's history, their concerns, their expectations, before beginning the work itself. It is exactly the same in my studio: the preliminary consultation isn't a formality, it is the moment that determines the quality of the session that follows.
The turning point: emotional weight and a change of life
During my last years at the hospital, something wore down. Twelve years in oncology is an emotional weight that accumulates — every patient, every set of notes, every person you support leaves its mark, and a moment comes when you sense you need to take care of yourself. To this was added an important personal change, which led me to settle in Paris in 2018.
That move also gave me time to ask a question I hadn't really allowed myself to ask before: what did I want to do next? Without renouncing anything of what medicine offers — and I still have immense respect for my former colleagues — I had the conviction that there was another side of care, older, more direct, that passes through the hands and through presence. I wanted, almost needed, to go and learn it.
Why Kobido in particular
The choice of Kobido wasn't accidental, and it wasn't a trend I followed either. When I was looking for my path within manual facial work, one thing struck me: among all the available practices, only Kobido combined the rigour of a school transmitted from master to apprentice since the 15th century, the technical depth of a craft that takes years to master, and a philosophy of the whole face that resonated with what I had learned at the hospital — caring for the person, not for an isolated area.
I also wanted to root my practice within a traceable, verifiable lineage rather than within an inspired approach — a subject to which I dedicated a whole article: authentic Kobido versus Kobido-inspired massage: finding your way.
Training with Master Mochizuki
I trained for 24 months with Master Shogo Mochizuki, the 26th Generation Grandmaster and official Lineage Holder of Kobido. It is a demanding apprenticeship, structured in progressive levels, which doesn't simply pass on movements: it transmits a culture of care, an ethics of touch, a philosophy of attention to the face that builds week after week.
What that training changed for me: the awareness that every movement has a history, that it has been refined by generations of practitioners and masters, and that it cannot be approached casually. That demand brings me back, through another path, to the rigour I had known at the hospital.
What I observe
My two professions have one thing in common, and it is what links them for me: they both begin with a long moment of listening before any hands-on work. At the hospital, it was the patient history, the reading of the notes, the conversation with the patient. In the studio, it is the preliminary consultation, the reading of the face, the conversation about what the client is really looking for. The work itself, afterwards, is only the consequence of that listening. When I move from one life to the other, it isn't so much that I have changed profession — it is that I have simply changed instruments.
What this continuity changes in my practice today
If you come to the studio, you will probably notice two or three things that aren't entirely usual in the world of facial care. An in-depth preliminary consultation, where I take the time to understand your history before arranging an appointment. A clear stance on what I can and cannot do for your face, and the honesty to tell you — I discuss this in Kobido contraindications: what I check first. And the conviction that a course of care is thought through over time rather than in a single instant. My first profession does not make me a better Kobido practitioner than another, but it probably explains my relationship to care and to the way I will welcome you.
Getting to know each other before booking
If you'd like to know more about my practice, my training, the way I work, feel free to write or call before a first appointment. I'll be glad to talk things through with you. Read my full portrait → | Book a session →
Frequently asked questions about my journey
Why did you leave medical imaging for Kobido?
For two interwoven reasons: twelve years in oncology leaves an emotional fatigue you need to know how to recognise, and a personal change of life led me to settle in Paris in 2018. That moment of breathing space gave me the opportunity to reflect on what came next. I had the conviction that there was another side of care, more manual and more direct — and Kobido emerged because of the rigour of its transmission and the depth of its hands-on work.
Does your medical background make you a better practitioner?
No, and I want to be honest about that. My medical background isn't a commercial argument. Other Kobido practitioners without any prior medical training work with a level of excellence and sensitivity I deeply respect. What my first profession changes is probably my relationship to preliminary listening and to the patience needed during a course of sessions — not the technical quality of the work itself, which comes from Kobido training.
How long did it take you to become a Kobido practitioner?
My training with Master Shogo Mochizuki took place over 24 months, through progressive levels. That isn't an exceptional duration: lineage training in Kobido always requires several years to reach recognised practitioner level. It is also a learning that doesn't really end — every year that passes refines the touch further.
Why did you settle in Paris?
For personal reasons first, professional ones afterwards. Once settled, I found in Paris an audience open to practices of care from other traditions, attentive to the authenticity of a method, and giving me the chance to meet very diverse clients. It is also a city where I can easily maintain a link with Italy, where I return regularly.
