I used to research the story of every great man I admired. Their youth, environments, those who inspired them, their education (or often lack thereof), their goals, and a sense of their artistic vision. These champions of the spirit, of a craft or purpose carried a torch, a light in the dark. They appeared to shoulder some beautiful tragedy, to pursue the tortuous things in life in an attempt to strengthen their bodies and minds for the sake of their communities. Like a conduit for some eternal battle they threw themselves at their art with the resolution to sacrifice anything and everything to achieve unknown ends. They preserved a youthful naiveté toward the world wrapped in armor of humble assurance. This allowed them to soar amid the quintessences of life and select only that which served their noble task. All for the progress of the human soul.