I am in the middle of reading the book Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott (extremely good, by the way) and I came across this passage regarding perfectionism. She is directly referencing the process of writing, yet I have complete faith that a lesson about life is fast on its heels... Such wisdom and awareness could not go undocumented here:
"Perfectionism means that you try desperately not to leave so much mess to clean up. But clutter and mess show us that life is being lived. Clutter is wonderfully fertile ground--you can still discover new treasures under all those piles, clean things up, edit things out, fix things, get a grip. Tidiness suggests that something is as good as it's going to get. Tidiness makes me think of held breath, of suspended animation, while writing (LIFE??) needs to breathe and move."
For some reason, as I read this passage (the whole chapter, really) I could not get the image of children finger painting out of my head. Kids--- ten-tentacled--caked to the core with a rainbow pallet of bright blues, radiant reds, and glittering greens--they "stroke". Swirling and twirling--swinging wide-- joyously launching globs and blobs of pigment with reckless abandon. Hues hurtle heedlessly towards the canvas--splashing; spreading; saturating every inch of naked space--clothing it with color. A spirit of frenzied freedom breathes life into the previous pallor.
Children are no respecters of lines...this is evident as one surveys the carnage of a canvas that was once so tidy and neat. Yes, I say, carnage....for the children have feasted upon their freedom of flaws...having satisfied themselves upon the sweet surrender of sterility. And it was good~
