http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2015/01/the-death-of-the-artist-and-the-birth-of-the-creative-entrepreneur/383497/
It begins with the article posted above. Much like therapy or hallucinogens, the penny dropped with a visceral thud, my mouth opened wide like the ball-swallowing clowns at the carnival. The article theorises that the role of the artist throughout history has been driven by market forces from artisan to genius (master craftsman to divine aesthete), then in the modern era from professional to entrepreneur (tenured professor to YouTube sensation). And in this, I looked on the folly of my works and despaired (I felt like an damned idiot).
When I was young I wanted to be a genius – the easiest notion to disabuse yourself of when you’re surrounded by extreme talent. Neither did I believe that somewhere I could find a mentor, someone who would see in me a gift to be nurtured – a boy without a father has deep troubles conceiving of role models. But…
Momentary Lapse Of Sanity 