I try not to fall into the "I never liked their work anyway" ditch when an artist/creator reveals themself to be a terrible person
BUT
a feeling I do have and will stand by is "While I enjoyed their work overall I did have some gripes that I overlooked out of affection and whimsy, but now that my loyalty is gone and my affection tainted there is nothing holding me back from enumerating my many grievances, to which the revelations of the creator's shittiness may or may not provide a new and infuriating context."
Art is intimately subjective. I believe it happens when a work enters the mind, it is not in the work itself.
Context, mood, perspective will change art.
Being loyal to an author, believing in the szme beliefs, imagining the author as understanding you, hoping, all those feelings are as valid 1s the sharpness of a trait or the eloquence of a character.
As we change, art changes. What was once beautiful is now ugly, what was perfect is now flawed, what was overrated is now magnificent.
Love is self replicating. Loving the author does not mean you will love the art. But it will color it.
And one day, the color is changed, or gone. Then you learn if you can love monochromes.





















