If you want to be an innovator, you have to get used to being shouted at. With the majority of people stuck in their bourgeoisie mindset, something truly new and exciting is alarming to them. And I have found something new—so new that it only just appeared after it rained today: mud.
What an explosive experience when I first found this mud and sat down in it! The texture as I squished it in my hands was unlike anything I’ve ever known. And the artistic opportunities seemed endless. I could mold it—shape it. I could also use it like paint—a dark brown brush for the world. I was so excited by the possibilities that my experience was barely marred by my parents' screaming at me the whole time.
Yes, their small minds may not comprehend the beauty of mud, but you must do what I do and ignore them. This is an experience that changes you. Even afterward when I had entered the house, my time with the mud stuck with me. The world continued to be painted wherever I wandered or touched. All the while my mother was yelling, “Oliver! You’re covered in mud!”
Yes, mother. Correct. I am a changed man now. I am one with the earth.
She did not understand, and her simple mind wanted to destroy what I had become. She gave me a bath — a dreadful experience I’ve already discussed at length (see previous review). This is but one of the sacrifices we make for art.
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