I recall being very impressed by the two move circle my art teacher at school used to be able to draw and he taught that Giotto could draw a perfect circle though Giotto himself said anyone who could draw perfect circle must be mad. The talented Michelangelo thought that his sculptures were all already inside the marble he just revealed them. Everyone knows how mentally unstable Van Gough must have been and the list of artists with ailments that affected their art – from blind writers like Milton to astigmatic painters, deaf musicians and half crippled virtuoso, is extensive.
Whatever we are, however out minds perform and our bodies are built, this is what makes us. In the science fiction book The Chrysalids by John Wyndham we are given a book which the population follow which sets out the perfect form of the human body. Of course we can read it with horror and we can see how the people who are different are atrociously treated, but we cannot see our own beliefs as worthy of the same opprobrium.
Artists who suffer everyday and still perform, whether its is Paganini or Beethoven or some other emotionally tormented individual, can see clearly what they are, and why they have to challenge themselves daily because being right is a constant agony.