You have social obligation
you have to watch your mouth
I spit my coffee out
I’m sorry–you thought my art was about you?
you thought I am sitting in a room pouring all that I am onto paper for you?
I let out a mad laugh
and you’re here to try and put me back in the box that I write to leave?
you’re here to tell the artist who is trying to not conform with her voice
what other brilliant advice do you have for me?
that I’m on a pedestal?
that because I’m a celebrity
that I have to set a good example
for them nice young girls?
I hope them nice young girls read my art and feel the fire in their belly begin to burn that they will need to live
and I hope the people who pull at the non-conformists to conform
because they’re uncomfortable seeing someone do it another way–find belonging not through a heard of sheep
but through their dharma–
rot in the hell of their comfortability
A good artist doesn’t have ears
and a throat to speak.