You want your airline pilot to be cautious, consistent and level-headed. Same with the guy driving your train. Or your accountant, or the guy with the authority to push the nuclear button.
But your artists, your writers, your painters, poets, song-writers, singers? You want passion. You want the mad ones. You want those folks who get carried away with an idea, can change on a dime, who lose themselves to the moment. And run off with an idea half-cocked.
Yes, you want the Wild Ones. The ones, who when you ask them: "What Are You Rebelling Against?" Reply: "What You Got?"
You want the ones who create a stir, who piss people off, who are good at "righteous indignation." You want the ones that are sensitive, super-sensitive to everything around them. They can see, and think and feel, everything.
So yes, there's a type. And there are many versions of this type: Rimbaud, Van Gogh, Jack Kerouac, Bob Dylan, John Lennon, Sinead O'Connor, Oscar Wilde, Kanye West, Lou Reed, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Patti Smith, Robert Mapplethorpe, Allen Ginsberg, Yoko Ono, Miles Davis.
People with a "chip on their shoulders." They have something to say. And they believe what they say with every fiber of their being. But of course what they say and believe today, might not be exactly what they say and believe tomorrow. They are those kind of folks.
They are mad, wild, changeable and messy, and always growing and trying new things, and making a noise, and annoying people, and moving onto the next thing.