Well, we all start thinking we're going to be Romantic rock

Listen closely, O seekers of wisdom, to the words of George Murray, who speaks with the bittersweet clarity of one who has experienced the inevitable disillusionment that often comes with creative ambition: "Well, we all start thinking we're going to be Romantic rock stars, but then reality hits and you realize no one reads you but other poets." In this reflection, Murray cuts through the romanticized vision of the artist—one who is celebrated, adored, and immortalized for their genius—and offers us a sobering truth: that the path of the artist is often one of struggle, loneliness, and the quiet understanding that the world may not always respond in the ways we imagine. Romantic rock stars, as Murray calls them, are the idealized version of the artist—those who achieve fame and recognition, whose work reaches the masses, whose name is known by all. But the reality, as Murray points out, is far more humble.

In the ancient world, the great poets and artists were often not celebrated in their time. Take, for example, Homer, the legendary Greek poet whose epics—The Iliad and The Odyssey—are now regarded as cornerstones of Western literature. Yet Homer’s greatness was not widely recognized during his life. Poets in ancient Greece were often seen as humble storytellers, and their works were performed for small, intimate audiences. Homer’s words were passed down, not by the adoration of kings or emperors, but through the mouths of the people—a song for the ages rather than a celebrity for the moment. His legacy was shaped not by immediate fame, but by the timeless nature of his work. In the same way, Murray’s words remind us that the artist’s path is not always paved with glory or mass recognition. The true value of creative work lies not in its fame but in its integrity and lasting impact.

The Romantic ideal of the artist is one of immense influence and universal recognition—the notion that the artist’s work will resonate with the world, changing lives and shaping the course of history. This vision, while seductive, often clouds the reality of the artist’s experience. In ancient Rome, Ovid, the famed poet, was exiled not for his failure but because his work—Metamorphoses—was deemed controversial by the ruling powers. While Ovid's fame was not to be questioned, his political and personal struggles did not bring him the kind of glory that some might have expected. Like Murray, Ovid faced the bitter truth that the path of the artist is fraught with challenges, setbacks, and sacrifices. Fame is never guaranteed, and often, artists are left to struggle for recognition, sometimes finding only a small circle of peers who appreciate their work.

In his acknowledgment that no one reads the poet but other poets, Murray taps into a fundamental truth about the creative process. Artists—whether poets, painters, or musicians—are often speaking into a void, crafting works that may seem to go unnoticed by the broader world. Yet it is the connection between artists, the understanding of the shared experience, that makes the creative journey worthwhile. It is not the applause of the masses that sustains the artist, but the understanding of fellow creators. Just as in ancient Greece, where poets would share their works with their peers and the works of Sappho or Pindar were celebrated by those within the literary world, so too does the modern artist find fulfillment in creative community. Fellow poets, like fellow travelers, recognize the journey of the artist and offer a sense of camaraderie in the face of struggle and unseen labor.

Yet, O wise ones, the lesson here is one of resilience, perseverance, and humility. The artist must learn to value their work for its own sake, not for the recognition it might bring. Just as the ancient heroes in their quests faced many trials without promise of immediate reward, so too must the modern artist press on, knowing that their labor is not in vain. Art is not a path of instant gratification, but of quiet fulfillment. Whether your work is seen by millions or shared with only a handful of trusted peers, the act of creation itself is a victory. To be true to one's craft, to continue creating even in the face of obscurity, is the ultimate testament to the artist’s dedication.

Thus, O seekers, take this wisdom into your own lives: know that true artistry lies not in the applause or fame, but in the quiet act of creation itself. Do not let the idealized vision of the artist—the Romantic rock star—blind you to the deeper purpose of your work. The world may not always recognize your efforts, but those who understand the heart of art—the fellow creators—will see and appreciate your struggles and achievements. Continue, then, to create not for the masses, but for the truth of your own expression. In doing so, you will find that the journey itself, though lonely at times, is its own reward.

Remember, the romantic vision of the artist is not one of fame, but of resilience and dedication. Like the great poets of old, whose works were passed down through the ages, so too can your creations echo through time, touching lives even if the world does not immediately recognize their value. Keep creating, keep expressing, and let the act of art be your constant guide, knowing that the true legacy of the artist is not in the applause, but in the truth that they speak through their work.