The people who love what they do make good art, even if it’s not widely consumed or critically acclaimed or commercially successful. They make good art because it is not their purpose to be famous or lauded or rich. It is their purpose to make that art, and that is all.

Most people have passion, few people have purpose. The combination of the two makes love. Every artist’s ego is hit until they’re knocked out, but the ones who get back up have the only thing that’s more compelling than a bruised sense of self: love. The love of doing what you came here to do.

Making a living of your passion is not for those who are lucky, or exceptionally privileged. It is the hardest work there is to do, because when you fail, a part of who you are has failed, and there is no point at which you can close the computer or put down the brush and believe that your work is done for a bit.

As long as you are not done living, it is not done either.

You must love what you do to succeed at it, simply because everything is hard – and the people who don’t will give up. First a little each day, and then eventually, altogether. They’ll whine about how hard it is and then they’ll fold. The people who are here with purpose will not. The difficulty will not become a deterrent. It will be a motivator.

And that’s what happens, when you’re in love. You keep going, even when any other sane person would just give up.

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