People sometimes discover Art of M. through a painting and then find the same world on a T-shirt. Other people arrive by way of the T-shirt and only later meet the painting. I like both routes.
The original art comes first. That matters to me. A mark, a character or a fragment of a larger work has a life on the canvas before it appears on anything else. Moving it onto clothing changes the encounter. You are no longer standing still in front of a painting. You are carrying a piece of its language into the street, onto a train, or into an awkward conversation at the supermarket.
Not every part of a painting belongs on a garment. Sometimes one small detail can hold its own; sometimes the piece needs the scale and silence of the wall. Choosing what travels is an artistic decision, not just a matter of making an image fit a rectangle.
Take Visionism. The idea behind the artwork has to do with perception: how we see, how others see us, and what remains unresolved between the two. As a wearable piece, that idea meets another person who brings their own reading to it. The wearer becomes part of the conversation. They may just be going out for coffee, which is perfectly fine. Art does not need everyone to make a speech on its behalf.
I do not think a T-shirt replaces an original painting. The original has its own presence, surface and history. A wearable piece offers a different kind of access. It lets an image move with someone and be seen in places a canvas may never go.
That is what “Art, lived and worn.” means to me. The art can stay on the wall. It can also step outside for a bit.
If you met the work through the clothing, come and look at the originals. If you know the paintings already, you might recognise an old friend in an unexpected place.