You know your boos don’t mean anything to me.
I’ve seen what you people cheer for.
I’ve watched mediocrity get a standing ovation.
Heard applause for things that say nothing, risk nothing, mean nothing.
And I’ve seen silence meet work that leaves its maker skinless.
So no your boos don’t move me.
Not when I’ve seen how easily praise is handed out to anything that plays it safe.
The truth is, the louder you get,
the more certain I become that I’m on the right track.
Because I didn’t show up to be liked.
I showed up to feel something.
To make you feel something.
And sometimes that feeling won’t be polite.
If all you want is something that matches the couch,
I’m not your artist.
If you need validation before you buy,
there are safer walls to look at.
But if you’re okay with being confronted,
if you want your space to push back a little,
if you’d rather your art roar than whisper,
then step closer.
This isn’t for everyone.
And that’s exactly the point.