I had become a fairly well-known artist, and was having my first really big-time show in a fancy gallery in a converted loft in Manhattan. Everybody who was anybody had turned out to see my newest work. Zooey Deschanel was there, with purple streaks dyed into her hair and too much mascara on her eyes, and we were quite taken with each other. I won’t go into a lot of detail on that.
Mos Def was there, too, and he was telling me how much he enjoyed my work. I told him that I loved his stuff as well, and took him to see a particular painting. I explained to him that I had been listening to Black on Both Sides when I painted it, and so really he was the inspiration for the work. For some reason this made him angry, and he told me that I shouldn’t be drawing inspiration from him, that my inspiration should come from inside me and from nowhere else. I tried to explain that nobody (not even me) is complete unto himself and we are all influenced by the world we live in and the people we share it with, but he was having none of it and stormed off offended.
So, if by some chance Mos Def is out there reading this, dude, what was that all about?
Mos Def was there, too, and he was telling me how much he enjoyed my work. I told him that I loved his stuff as well, and took him to see a particular painting. I explained to him that I had been listening to Black on Both Sides when I painted it, and so really he was the inspiration for the work. For some reason this made him angry, and he told me that I shouldn’t be drawing inspiration from him, that my inspiration should come from inside me and from nowhere else. I tried to explain that nobody (not even me) is complete unto himself and we are all influenced by the world we live in and the people we share it with, but he was having none of it and stormed off offended.
So, if by some chance Mos Def is out there reading this, dude, what was that all about?
