BURC AKYOL COLL 04 SUMMER, COEUR OUVERT

On an aircraft, on my way to NYC for my dear friend Rachel Scott’s Jamaican flavored wedding. I am watching All the Beauty and the Bloodshed, Nan Goldin by Laura Poitras after 2 hours of business planning on this small tray to make sure I sent a prize application in time and can’t help but think of running away from all matter of commitment.

Just a few weeks before the flight, I had had my own Civil Union. I have been teasing my H. joking about this but, I have been falling in love ten times a day since. Loving someone for eleven years and making it official bring out so many thoughts in you which all boil down to the same question: Is this when I say goodbye to me being me?

Or rather the possibilities of me as the parallel I could do in here with the commitment in my relationship and the commitment to my label would make the fortune of a counter shrink. There is no escape card, is there? The path is narrow and clear from now on. My fantasies and kinks? What about getting drunk and going out and not having to text to say I’ll be home late or open the studio to the team? What about the unexplored territories of me? Will I ever act again? Will I ever love anew? Feel the sour blade of rejection again?
Fanny Ardant said: “Art takes the place that Love left” which literally means Love eats all space. Love is mercilessly hungry for your skin so it can lodge itself here and there in your flesh. In a familiar gaze, in a morning routine, in a hundredth fight over a forgotten sock on the bedroom floor or upside-down bedsheets. Love wraps in alluring ceremonials and embalms like tuberose but leaves you bare like fraying fabric. Love promises unconditionally and betrays like parents who won’t meet their gay son’s husband and each time your heart opens you sign a lease over a permissive field of vulnerability.

Those vulnerabilities, how they become the cement of you. How they form eleven years of making it work and become the very reason why it all works. One scar and frustration after the other how they embellish you lastingly and become your rarities and your quality. Your silver lining. Your beauty and bloodshed. Your fight and your stay.

I may want to run away like a teenager or with the biker around the corner but freedom is not a bodily escape. Freedom is in the heart of the fire.

To H. You are my island.

Original Music by @legacy___music

@burcakyol
Video @baleinesouscachalot
Production @twotwenty_production
Press @karlaotto
Styling @laetitialeporcq
Assisted by @elisa.khayat @martudotti
Hair by @gillesdegivry @artlistparisnewyork
Assisted by @hairbysadek @alexis__mercier @tomoko_hair_ Joy Benoni-Tali Hawa Drame @tsuyoshi.tamai
Make up by @lauren_bos @artlistparisnewyork
assisted by @alexismassotmua @florianbignon @camillelam__ @rose_nevrose @marievallee @clara_retif @justine_sirabella @salma.tmoulik
Casting @suunconsultancy
Models @sarahawija @sydacker @sem_staub @emiel111 @kg_hyun @_michaelzielinski_ @honeyord @lrschlz @dries.haseldonckx @wolf_missotten @miko.foy @antonsusen @ninoseys @mami_akol @brockweeb @danilomarzz @its_pong @don.nhrmy @aylindelemen @auguste_prnt @lianou_tudou @kenysalgadol @gretacarn @ash_foo @___zion.t @cynthiawu__ @lerashatilava @noahherbst @hunter.lison @larspost_

A very special thank you to our @institutdumondearabe family
With respects to @jacklangofficiel and our dear @philou2709

@carmin.floral for our tuberose and their gentle souls

Shoes @louboutinworld

To H. You are my island.

#BurcAkyol #Coll04Summer #coeurouvert