A young couple I know have convinced me that two artistic people should never marry. In every couple there should be at least one of the two who is of a practical frame of mind and is willing to do little non-artistic things like dishes, laundry, sweeping—you know what I mean—all those little chores that can be left undone for long periods of time, but only if you want to live in a perpetual mess.
These two young artists are happily creating art projects while living in a mess that day by day grows worse. Their only hope is that one of them is a genius at some artistic endeavor so they can grow solidly rich and hire an ordinary, mundane person to serve as their maid.
Of course, there’s always the other hand. Two artists don’t equal one housekeeper, but likewise, two housekeepers don’t equal one artist. Never doing anything creative until every bit of mundane work is done means never creating anything because work is never done. These two are leaning a long way in one direction and there is probably another couple somewhere who is leaning way too far in the other. Maybe there’s something to the idea of having “arranged” marriages wherein it is arranged that every artist marry a housekeeper.