Do you think fame has a way of corrupting artistic expression? [x]
T: There’s a wonderful poem about fame by an English poet called
Charlotte Mew in the 20’s, and she says: If I went back and it was not there?
Back to the old known things that are the new,
The folded glory of the gorse, the sweetbriar air,
To the larks that cannot praise us, knowing nothing of what we do,
And the divine, wise trees that do not care.