
From the SF-area critic/poet's essay
"Connect the Prose with the Passion"
Passion, therefore, is essential to the artist. Most people don't understand that real artists never choose their vocation. Their art chooses them -- just as love selects the lover as its vessel. We do not calmly walk into love. As the metaphor tells us, we fall into it -- helpless, dizzy, disoriented. There is no sure resistance to the gravity of desire, nor any guarantee of a safe landing. We can either spend all our energy fighting it or surrender and make it energy our own. Weak artists emulate the fashionable passions of their age; strong artists have the shameless conviction of their own tastes. Sometimes refusing to be revolutionary is the most radical form or rebellion.
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