The one that hit me was: A fine artist, (successful, credential-festooned, with inherited money), told me that I was too focused on commerce to be an artist. A

The one that hit me was: A fine artist, (successful, credential-festooned, with inherited money), told me that I was too focused on commerce to be an artist. A real artist endured poverty. Being poor was edifying, filled with moral uplift. I spent weeks in a murderous rage.