Perfection and Fear

I feel like this is probably a subject I’ve talked about before but…I’ll talk about it again anyways.

I don’t really think that perfection exists, in people, in life, in art. Personal perfection exists, but it’s very subjective, my perfect is not what perfect is to my neighbor, to those of you reading this or to my sister. I think the concept of Perfection (and fear) are an artists worst enemy.

I have been very…out of sorts lately. First I was sick for almost a week and didn’t get out of bed the whole time, didn’t do any homework or art. I didn’t even think about either. Now I’ve been better for a few days, it’s spring and warm. The days are winding down to the end of the semester, my blog is in a good place (I accomplished my goals for last month!) but I just don’t want to create anything. Part of it is because of my stress and depression but I think part of it stems from the idea of Perfection.

I’ve wanted to go sit in my art space, crack open the paints and work in my art journal but I couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. I don’t want to create something I’m not proud of, I don’t want to make a page that I hate to look at. I’m one of those kinds of art journalers that preaches letting go, just sit down and do and don’t worry what it looks like. If the page looks like shit rip it out, paint over it, glue the pages together and get rid of it. But just get the words and emotions out. I never take my own advice. Why? I don’t know, I wish I did, it’s good advice don’t you think?

I have standards set for myself, my ideas of failure and of not reaching perfect are almost insane. Every time I tell someone what my standards for failure are, they think I’m crazy. I haven’t gotten less than A’s and B’s in school since Freshman year of High School. Anything less is a failure to me. For a long time I was hesitant to talk about my real feelings of art school (my post about it is written and coming soon!) because I felt like a failure for even considering that I didn’t enjoy photography and it wasn’t my dream anymore.

Insane? Maybe. But my standards for perfection and failure for myself are set high, and they rule my life. I shouldn’t let them. I should go make a mess, go make a terrible page. But I’m too afraid. Afraid of what will happen if I fail at life and if I fail myself.

This perfection and fear wasn’t brought to my thoughts today because of art. It was life. My life is far from perfect, far from where I wish it was and from my idea of perfect. But what is there to do about it? Things seem helpless, worthless and unmoving. I know I know, I should look at the little things to make me happy. I have people who love and support me, I’m young and can “do anything”, I have a whole life ahead of me to make it perfect. But…still, I’m not where I hoped.

I’ll stop rambling. What are your thoughts? What’s your idea of perfection and do you get bogged down in it? Do you let it control you, or do you break through and keep going?

(I sound very cynical today, I apologize for that)