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You get inspired by the dedication of creative people who struggle through the hard times, work dead-end jobs, and give up basic pleasures in order to pursue their first love.

You watch as they suffer, as they fade then strike back, as they reject the possibility of rejection. You see them give up and rebound.

Sometimes you are lucky enough to walk beside one of these people. You share in their struggle; you push them forward. You try to keep them on the dark road they are forced to follow because if they fall by the wayside, the world will lose their gifts - and they will lose themselves. You pull them away from the beckoning lights of mediocrity, of a well-paying 9 to 5 job in a career where they could pass for average, but which will taint the artist they really are, sometimes irreversibly.

Sometimes you stand back and let them stumble, because you know they have the strength to build themselves back up again; if you hold their hand, you will have to carry them. You will destroy their essence. Artists carry themselves. They do not rely on others to support them in their work - at some point, they must acknowledge their own innate power. This is step one. Without this knowledge, there will be no success. There will be no art, only jot notes and shadows.

The rest is self-explanatory. Eventually, and repeatedly, the artist recognizes that they cannot escape their calling (their addiction). They draw up the strength to persevere, to chase the mirage. It's their blessing and their curse, with explosions of creative highs and black holes of disappointment. It's their lifeblood, the reason their heart beats, and also the reason they curse and cry.

The world starts to take notice. For that brief moment when you are lucky enough to stand by their side, you get a glimpse of why we are here.

You get inspired...