Wouldn't it be nice if the people behind the things we loved were as pure and perfect as our love for the products they created?

It doesn't happen.

I ended up great friends with someone who created a body of work I hold dear. He isn't perfect. His faults make the relationship between who he is as a person, as an artist and the body of work he's created complex. But that fissure between the creator and the created is what makes the work that much better.

Jobs seemed to be similar.

The art of creation is a messy thing indeed.