The quest for perfection appears at face value a noble endeavour. Don’t be deceived. With time and experience, it unmasks itself as nothing more than a hampering hindrance. Perfectionism is a misunderstood force in the world—one that presents itself as a virtuous attribute to the aspiring artist whilst paralysing his or her ability to create.
‘In nature, nothing is perfect yet everything finds a way to be’ an Amazonian guide told me once, holding up the lopsided shell of a Brazil nut, voluptuous greenery bursting out from every which way. ‘Everything you see around us is unique, and everything that’s created serves the ecosystem. To us, this may seem like a useless shell, but to other organisms, this is what they rely on. This is everything.’
One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, I thought, as he chucked it aside and walked on. I imagined a flurry of ants pouncing on it as soon as we turned our backs to its hollow concave, the jungle eating itself.
Nature is considered graceful, near-perfect, in and of itself, for merely existing. Its qualities, like the crystal clear ocean water, the kaleidoscopic sea life hidden beneath its depths, or the ever-changing colours on land which spring back and forth between vibrant and dull through the seasons, are a force of beauty that exist with the singular aim of living to see another day. Perfection is not an aim for any animal or organism in the natural world. If it does exist, it is categorised so subjectively and as a byproduct of its initial function— survival.
Why then, is perfection considered an admirable aim for humans in the creative work that they do?
I have become averted to the aim for perfection, not just due to its unattainability, but also for the barriers it imposes on creative work, which flourishes always when limitations are suspended. The problem with perfection lies not in the quality itself, which is of course unreachable, but rather in what it does to the artist or creative person who struggles with it.
Of all the people I’ve met who consider themselves to be perfectionists, I have found they can be categorised into two groups. The first group holds sincere pride in their perfectionism. They tell me in grand gestures, flashing toothy smiles as they feign their modesty, as if this ‘virtuous’ quality alone explains the standard of the work they do. The second group of people appear like prisoners in self-imposed house-arrest, distant behind the eyes as they list off reason after reason of why they are not ready yet to release their work, divulging what it is they lack before they can be content with the effort they’ve put in. I listen with idle ears as a bubbling sympathy boils up in me, watching as they erect new hurdles for themselves.
Perfectionism paralyses. And actually, it’s much more cunning than that.
Perfectionism, like a polished badge of honour, cloaks itself in virtue whilst poisoning its host, like a catfished debilitation that encumbers even the most able creatives into epochs of stagnation. At best it creates a drip-fed version of the artist’s potential, like a plug blocking a reservoir of creative output held hostage behind dam walls.
Many of these so-called ‘perfectionists,’ live endlessly in their minds. Caught between four walls of brain plasma, a self-elected prison sentence, handcuffed to the fleeting negativity that sweeps across their psyche. Listening, or even worse, believing in these negative, self-effacing thoughts, is like getting the crutches kicked out from under your injured self, right as you try to stand up.
What does perfectionism thwart exactly?
Our ability to nurture the ideas which flow their way towards us.
Ideas arrive in dreamy whispers, as fleeting intangibles, just loud enough for you and you alone to hear them. The stamp you leave, like fingerprints on an untouched gem, or a smudge on ancient parchment, provides a new perspective within the nurturer and inspiration within the curious who choose to observe it.
The practice of catching and bringing these ideas into reality is much more difficult in a state of self-criticism. Ideas must be cared for to grow into what they can become. Perfectionism makes this much harder, it pushes you to judge your work to unfair standards that, more often than not, lead to a slowing down, a creative lethargy or complete stagnation.
I say— be intentionally imperfect. Actively try to fuck up, be an imperfectionist.
The idea of being imperfect, or at least, seeing the work you do as mere honest expressions of here and now, slapped me in the face after I internalised the mindset of a (from a distance, observed) mentor— Virgil Abloh.
“Perfectionism doesn’t advance anything, ironically. As a creative and as a designer there’s no wrong way to go about the future of your career, the only failure is not to try. […] Once I realised it’s okay to not be a perfectionist, all of a sudden I could do a million things at once.” — Virgil Abloh
Incidentally, Virgil’s output was incredibly high. He was able to balance the line between multiple disciplines at once. Erasing perfectionism for him, means dissolving the line between ‘work in progress’ and ‘finished product.’ Within many aspects of his work you can observe the structure of the workflow in the product itself, from transparent shoe designs, to album covers. The power gained by being able to ‘do a million things at once,’ was pushed further with his 3% rule — a methodology of changing an existing design by only 3%, thus presenting a familiar object in a new light. We can learn a lot from Virgil and his output.
And what is it we’re scared of exactly? For our work to be judged, or deemed as inadequate? I go back to the analogy of the empty casing of the Brazil nut. What is useless to one person, may be a treasure to another. You never know what positive chain reaction your work may illicit in the eyes of another.
What bothers me about perfectionism is its ability to rob the beauty of the present moment. Perfectionism says that what you made isn’t good enough, that this moment which is unfurling miraculously in front of your face, doesn’t live up to enough.
This is a dangerous truth to take to heart and an insult to the gift of life itself.
Embracing imperfection means being content with what is provided for in your life, right now. It doesn’t require anything but to seize your day— to grasp the truth of what’s in front of you right here and now and to use it within your work.
“To take the Here and Now in one’s hand, lovingly, with the heart, full of wonder, as, provisionally, the one thing we have: that is at once, to put it rather casually, the gist of God’s great user’s guide,” — Rainer Maria Rilke
[Letter From The Young Worker]
Thank you for reading!
1- Leave a Like. — If you enjoyed this post, please click the ❤️ below. It really helps support my work.
2- Spread the Love. — If you want to make my day, share it with a friend who may enjoy it.
3- Talk to me. — If my writing resonates with you or you want to talk to me directly, reach out. Reply to this email or leave a comment. I respond to everyone :)
Till next time,
IL.
Good stuff man - a really nice take on the topic. I'll admit to some ambivalence here. Intellectually, I agree 100% with what you're saying, but there's still a apart of me that cautions against the "imperfectionist" mindset.
I think it stems from the general complacency and entitlement I see in a lot of folks these days, especially my students. And so while I don't want to set them up to fail (in their quest for perfection), I also worry that an early acceptance of imperfection will lead to stagnation. So, if we're going to rightly preach imperfection, wf have to balance it with extolling progress.
Great piece! I think there is a certain amount of presumptuousness about our own capabilities to strive to be perfect or produce anything that is “perfect”. Even the rule of nature is basically just “good enough to survive”, who do we think we are to aim for perfection? Also, the definition of perfect is highly subjective and relative. Perfect to whose standards?
Some might say perfection is unattainable, but the pursuit of it makes us better in the process. But I think you’re right in this essay, it might make us better, but it sure does make us more miserable. Because in the pursuit of perfection all that we notice are the painful imperfections glaring back at us. But that doesn’t mean handing in sloppy works with minimal effort. Pursue excellence, not perfection. I think there’s a difference between them. (You’ve just sparked an idea for another post - thanks!)
Also I fully agree to your comment on music. Sometimes when I listen to less refined performances, like classical pieces performed by students instead of world class soloists, the rawness and the intricacies of the music feel much more potent, as opposed to being polished away by mastery and technique. The imperfect playing, the ragged edges, the rougher textures somehow accentuate the perfection of the music itself instead of taking away from it.
That said, this is really some excellent writing. You’ve got an instant subscriber ;D