There is no other way for me but to fight and to question.
As a creator I must do something, DO something...
But what involves those who cannot fight?
I hear my mother's warning and the lack of one from hers before me.
Now it is time for me to choose.
I chose my form, my method and now I find the voice it carries.
Something raw, something that possess the energy I need to do this.
I know the right way, I was trained in the right way but this somehow leaves me empty.
Would you believe me if I did it wrong?
Would you believe me if I did it fast?
The traditions will not phase me, instead fuel my fire to break apart from the known.
My touch is my own.
It is brutal and it is wanting. And my material loves me for this.
I wonder if others will love me for this or if they will be disgusted and refuse to understand. Again, this is why I do this.
Get angry! Question me!
We should never be in a profound state of comfort.
Patti asks me, "Do you like the world around you? Are you ready to behave?"And Eartha asks me, "To compromise? But what does it mean to compromise?"
These women who did it before me ask me this!
I feel this in my heart as I touch and create.
I ask myself these things and I touch.
Or I smash, or I punch or I pound.
I hear a sound and I want my eyes to do the same thing.
I want all eyes to do the same thing.
Voices, notes, rhythms, screams, truth.
My art could not exist without these things.
I do not aim to please but rather to energize
I will always keep questioning...