For the true artist, there’s no glamor to art, just hard work and satisfaction. There’s no divine inspiration, or superhuman qualities, as much as we’d like to believe that. Sure, some things come easier to some people, and some folks have a different way of seeing than ourselves, and all of this comes out in the creative work, but much like the saying, so flippantly used to reference artists with vision, who’ve done the hard work, “they’re ahead of their time…” Actually, they’re exactly in the time they’re in, and some folks just don’t get it, so it’s contextualized in a way that makes it more about the art and less about the incomprehensibility of the work.
The work is just that, and like work it’s also hard, stressful, frequently exhausting and often to the detriment of one’s mental or emotional well-being, sometime both.
But in that place where the artist lives, whether through process or product, the satisfaction of having done the good work, the right work, their own work, and their own thing is the only glamor, reward or external they’ll ever need. At least that’s what I’ve found to be the case.