I’m not crazy; my mother had me tested.

Arguably, most forms of art worth lengthy discussion have a bit of madness behind them, whether it is a painting, film, or novel. Personally, I find that my creative work suffers a bit when everything in my life feels completely balanced. Think about the mental states of various actors, painters, and authors. Off of the top of my head, I can come up with Tilda Swinson, Tom Cruise, Charlie Sheen, Hemingway, Tolstoy, Poe, Wolfe, Caravaggio, (cough) Hitler… I could list tons and tons, but I’d much rather hear from you.

Gustave Courbet, The Desperate Man, 1843-1845.
Oil on canvas, 45 x 54 cm.
Private collection.

But madness is rather subjective, isn’t it?