I was a member of that cult, I have to say. 
I used to admire those artists for their sufferings: Van Gogh cut his ear, Rimbaud was shot by his poet-lover, Jean Genet used to be a male prostitute, Gaudi was killed by a tram, Freda had a horrific car accident, and don’t even mention Karfka!
Made me wonder: are there any happy artists out there?
The late great writer Kurt Vonnegut is the depression in chief, to me.
He suffered from depression through out his life, after his mother killed herself. 
But he can write the funnest thing in the world!
Then here comes the creator of the beloved "Peanuts", Mr. Schulz.  The new biography of his painted him as an unhappy, discontent man.  But his family and friends would disagree. (Here is the link: http://www.nytimes.com/2007/10/14/weekinreview/14kennedy.html?pagewanted=2)
Who is right?  The author of the new book, or the people spent much time with the man himself? 
Why we public just love to see artists suffer?  Are their works somehow more sincere if they are tortured deep in their heart and soul? 
Now, please, someone name a happy artist!