Link for listening
Several years ago, I painted prolifically in watercolor and ink with the boyfriend (of that time). We ventured out to the everywhere of landscapes, coffee shops, and unsuspecting people and brought home copious amounts of half-done renderings, foiled attempts, and maybe an accidental masterpiece.
I liked very few of our paintings; he liked all of them. I kept my painting-mishaps because I would either use the flipsides for other paintings or I’d rip them up to make collages. This guy I was with would frame all of his paintings with glass and black electrical tape and hang them in cafes and hair salons around town. This made me cringe yet at the same time I was in awe of his enterprising courage, absence of stifling self-judgment, and his audacity.
Confidence was an inspiring trait of this man; having boundaries … not so much. One day I walked into a café and saw a painting of mine that I despised, framed in black electrical tape. So in broad daylight everyone could see this imperfect rendition of wobbly coffee cups. I was embarrassed, angry, and no doubt, a scene ensued when I got home.
The next day we went to retrieve my painting and guess what? It had sold for $300. Whaaaat? Someone had bought and planned to hang what
wasn’t even finished. Without revealing my mortification, I sheepishly asked the purchaser, “So … what do you like about it?” She replied, “Well, everything ... especially the unfinished look.” Really?
After evaluating that she was indeed sane, I experienced one of those cellular changes where the epiphany is greater than the sum of the painting.
- Couldn’t I see the value someone else could see in my work?
- Am I not even my own audience?
- Was I doing what others considered good work and not even knowing it
I was sad, excited, confused, but ultimately inspired to paint more. I looked at my results in a new light. I had no idea that my standards might be suspect for what was considered “good.” At an earlier time I would have discounted the fact that someone considered the painting good enough to be bought by just writing it off as a fluke--stuck in a belief system I didn’t even know was sucking out my creative mojo. I guess I was ready in that moment to let it go.
- Just curious… do you need to ask yourself these questions too? Whether it’s art, writing, music, or whatever it is that you do? Are you your own audience? And if not, are you open to the fact that others may be?
T.S. Eliot said, "Between the idea and the reality ... falls the shadow."
How we think our art and writing should look and what actually happens is often out of our control. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be something as good or better than we
planned. If we are attached to the vision of what it MUST look like, we are robbing ourselves of the pleasure that can come from going with the flow seeing how the work emerges. It’s one of the joys of the creative process to “see what happens” instead of controlling it.
It took a lot of looking through the eyes of the people who appreciate my art to melt the deep-rooted illusion that wanted me to keep me believing it sucked, to relax a little into self-appreciation
Perfectionism is creativity’s wicked stepsister.
She dismisses the compliments of others as ignorant, uninformed, or simply them trying to be nice. She towers over us with a disapproving look that robs us of the joy in the process. She insists that we keep our work to ourselves to avoid the embarrassment of our ineptness. She needs to be stopped.
Perfectionism’s rigid demands and unbending standards can prevent the sweetness that comes with savoring our own work.
Not everyone will be our audience and that’s okay. But if we hold to relentless standards, we will have a hard time believing anyone would be our audience. And that’s just sad.
Perfectionism sees in black and white. Our work is either perfect or it sucks. She’s never pleased because her standards are unreasonable.
If you are a perfectionist, just reading this may give you some awareness but a hardcore perfectionist will have difficulty relinquishing those high, often unrealistic standards.
They are programmed from heredity, messages in childhood, and society and are well ingrained in the fabric of who we are. They come from fear of not doing or being enough.. fear is the thing that sucks… but it comes with the creative process so finding a way to overcome it is key.
Where do we start to let go of some of this oppression so we can enjoy ourselves more?
With compassion, which is tricky for a perfectionist. It’s what we teach in Kaizen-Muse Creativity Coaching.
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