artists are truly fucked up people
they feel more, analyse more, hurt more, please more, express more, laugh more, cry more.
i cannot imagine a single artist who hasn't felt pain and has been suppressed enough to express it. art finds its way to the artist and it's seldom the other way around. it's an olive branch, a life saving hand that grips an artist at their lowest.
the fucked up artist may be cheered on, may be critiqued upon, insulted by the many who claim to understand their art on the whole, but frankly, there's no one except the creator who completely understands it all.
it's upto the artist to spend their life trying to defend their art or make more of it and let time take its course.











