“I started doing ‘street art’ ten years ago. I was instantly obsessed with it. I enjoyed the tightknit community and the sense of rebellion. Every weekend, I escaped my rural hometown for Brisbane to put up stickers that I spent the week creating and run amok. At this time, in my mind, Melbourne’s street art scene was thriving – a romantic and utopian beacon of light.

My recent residence in Melbourne has been, in many ways, disappointing. In place of the scene I remembered, I’ve found something rotten, commodified, controlled, curated and exploited. So many artists seem to get up purely to find their footing in the art world and to promote their products and exhibitions. In ways, I admit I see this taint even in myself.

People are creating street art to please the lowest common denominator. I think I’ll vomit if I see another thoughtless, tokenistic, public rainbow mash-up. I wonder if that’s how some people see what I do. I understand my work getting capped.

People celebrate as street art becomes more accepted. Street art never needed help or acceptance, only a little tolerance.

Lanes don’t need curation.

Who are these unnecessary third parties that have become involved? Strangers use my work and the work of my fellow artists to get council-funded lifts and cherry pickers, as we all scramble for the chance to climb into one. I never needed help to paint big and now I feel helpless in the situation.

Street art’s DIY sentiment is dead. I wish everyone had to ride their bikes holding ladders and extension poles. I wish they had to steal supplies and be willing to, potentially, get arrested. Then a lot of people wouldn’t bother, which would be great. ”

“: Me at 15 in Hosier Lane. ”

– “SHIDA”