“I am a perfectionist”
Why do people say they are perfectionists? What are they perfecting? And having perfected it, what will they do with it?
Take a skill like carpentry. You chop, scrape, polish, create a piece of furniture, there are no jagged edges, it is comfortable, beautiful. The buyer/user is happy. The user can only believe it is good because s/he does not know whether it is perfect. They were not involved in the process. Now what? You move on, right? If you look back at that piece, then you either believe it can be bettered or you feel a sense of regret at parting with it. In effect, it has left you dissatisfied.
How perfect is something that does not leave you contented?
How perfect is the skill of chopping wood when the tree was probably perfect? Is the saw perfect? Does not the polish fade with time or sunlight? Are time and sunlight imperfect?
Take an art like writing. Even if one chooses what is considered the perfect word, does it resonate with the reader? Is the description of a character perfect when human personalities are wont to change and go through several roles? You may spend a lot of time editing but is the final result really final? By sentencing the phrases we make them into bonded labourers. If we weigh each word as per the prescribed form, then we are working within prisons. Why become the chattels of technique, when we can make it into a baton with which to conduct the orchestra? And through the music of words mid-way, we ought to be able to take the risk and let a jarring note sing its song.
When I encounter a perfect sentence that lacks depth or emotion, I want to tear it apart. What use is such cleverness when there is no space between the lines to manoeuvre a wayward thought?
Striving for perfection when made into a goal seems mercenary, as though you would ride roughshod over the very words that are your tools only to create that oh-so-neat prose or poetry. Striving can at best be a road; all journeys give new insights. What is fresh is perfect. For the moment. Like the page of a book, the moment too turns. That is the beauty of life - the curves.
I am glad I have never sought perfection. Even when I fall, I don’t get a perfect fracture; I end up with a ligament tear. You cannot protect it with splint and you suffer excruciating pain. Every step that you then take is an awareness of the fall, not anticipation of when the plaster will be removed.
A touch of dew on skin that hurts is a more touching ode than squiggles penned on the cast.
7 comments:
i wonder if there is anything perfect!
the question of perfection arises only when we start comparing, maybe thats a wrong thing to do.
let everything remain uniqe
you are an auther?
Your writing makes me think and touches me,and the image you crwate is new.That is also perfect even when I don't agree with you
The earth has spun around the sun day after day, year following year, for billions of years ensuring that humanity watches from the days of the stone age to the preent, with utmost awe and fascination the sun rise and then set with all the beauty and grandeur at its command, is perfection.
That the song of a nightingale that albeit temporarily provided tranquility to a dying Keats is perfection.
That every millisecond billions of hydrogen molecules in the sun, crunch together to produce helium, in order to generate the requisite energy/heat …..so that all forms of life remain intact in this world is perfection.
That your warm and sensitive heart began beating while you were still in your dear Mom’s womb and continues to do so at the rate of approximately 65 to 75 beats per minute , at all times,day after day in order to pump blood to nourish every cell, every organ, , and most importantly your brilliant mind ……is perfection.
That you write so aesthetically and alluringly is perfection.
FV:
Why become the chattels of technique, when we can make it into a baton with which to conduct the orchestra? And through the music of words mid-way, we ought to be able to take the risk and let a jarring note sing its song.
Isn't this imperfectly perfect -- uniquely FV? You are in superb form nowadays.
As some-one said
Perfection is not when there is nothing more to add (for there will always be), but when there is nothing more to remove
I think that I am a perfectionist, but also that the world doesnt appreciate. It is difficult to realise when to stop your quest for perfection in creating something (for you can always add more).
Deeps:
Right to the first...'maybe' to the second.
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KB:
Am sure the disagreeing part is perfect....
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Deepak:
Lovely...
Except the last bit...pulse rate is often quicker and the writing is not perfect...please, puts too much pressure on the wrists...eik tau pulse sambhalo phir likho bhi...
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PS:
So why are you beign so stingy? Where is the...look above the above post...
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Khalil:
Add-subtract...multiply...divide...you are a perfect mathematician...
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