I am not religious, but I was raised in a country where catholicism is the dominant faith and deeply culturally pervasive. I never though of it as part of my identity or heritage. I remember my mom, an importunate atheist, making fun of my dad, who was a church chorister for much of his life. She would contend that the omnipresent, omnipotent, omniscient and omnibenevolent sky daddy violates the constitution and our right to privacy with his invasive, warrantless surveillance. She would remark, "if there is a god, then it must be an alien."
I might have chosen, like my mother, to renounce faith from a very young age, but the aesthetic is harder to abandon. I hadn't realised the deep attachment I had to it until I analysed some of the concepts I portray in my work.
The sacred heart of Jesus is one of those concepts that I saw everywhere growing up. It made me feel appalled and queasy as a child, though more recently the memory of it has resurfaced with a much more compelling narrative.
It isn't my intention to use this type of references, but sometimes you just have to quiet the brain noises, otherwise you'll never know peace again.
So here is my take, a very loose reference, to the exposed, flaming heart, which symbolizes passion, or long suffering love, or it might just be anatomically correct for whatever alien species my mom was referring to.
Tailored with a touch of poetic femininity, this piece is crafted from linen and silk, natural co-conspirators in the luxurious hand feel of this garment. It is cut in a flattering sinuous silhouette featuring windows to the chest, long darted sleeves with split cuffs, and organic, pebble-like shaped buttons.
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