Mind Your Practice

It Was Perfcet...

Episode Summary

Welcome to Mind Your Practice. I’m Beth Pickens and in this episode, I will talk about the illusion of perfection.

Episode Notes

Ep. 3 It Was Perfcet...

Welcome to Mind Your Practice. I’m Beth Pickens and in this episode, I will talk about the illusion of perfection.

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Thanks for listening to Mind Your Practice and be sure to subscribe so you get all the bonus episodes coming your way. Want more homework and support for your creative practice? Join Homework Club where you’ll get monthly homework, workshops, live QnA's, and an accountability pod, hand chosen by me. Go to bethpickens.com to learn more. You can find me on Instagram at @bethpickensconsulting. Thanks for listening and keep making art.

Mind Your Practice is created by Beth Pickens and Carolyn Pennypacker Riggs.

Episode Transcription

Ep. 3 It was perfcet

Welcome to Mind Your Practice. I’m Beth Pickens and in this episode, I will talk about the illusion of perfection.

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Hello artists. One of my all time favorite camp moments on screen comes from Darren Aronofsky's 2010 film Black Swan. Natalie Portman’s ballerina character lays dying at the end of her intense dance performance and dramatically utters, “It was perfect.” I saw Black Swan in a San Francisco movie theater and my fellow audience members and I let out screams and laughs at this high camp moment that I don’t think was intended as camp. But what a campy metaphor for the dangers of perfection. Portman’s character fatally stabs herself, dances her final performance, then dies. Perfection kills, even in Rodarte designs, you can die of it.

Perfectionism is an obstacle for nearly every artist. Probably for every human, if we’re honest. We have a belief that there exists such a thing as perfection. I argue, dear listener, that it’s just an illusion, particularly in anything so subjective as art. Consider what you think would be perfect in your discipline or within your own work. If you approached or perhaps reached your internal idea or definition of perfect, your perfection barometer would move the end goal further away. It’s something always out of reach, always hazily in the distance.

This could sound motivating and for some, maybe it is. A goal that is always out of reach may keep a person moving, always striving, forever growing and trying. This isn’t how it pans out for most artists, though. Instead, perfection does a few harrowing things. Let’s discuss and unpack them.

Perfectionism keeps us from starting. So much procrastination is rooted in fear, not the laziness that people judgily think about themselves. We have a deep fear that if something is not executed perfectly on the first try, that it means something about us, and our value as a person. If it’s not perfect immediately, then it’s not worth doing because clearly we’re not good at it and we shouldn’t bother trying. It sounds silly when I speak it out loud but this is the internal battle so many of us go through unconsciously when we avoid or procrastinate doing something we want to do. We may decide that if there is no such thing as perfect, then we shouldn’t attempt anything at all. And when we’re trying something new or making a first attempt, it’s not even supposed to be very good, let alone perfect. It’s the learning, the working out, the trying and retrying and retrying that makes work better and better. But you can recognize and understand the mindtrap we get stuck within, never even beginning at all.
Perfectionism keeps us from sharing. Artists tell me that they don’t want to let people engage their work, regardless of how far along it is because it’s not perfect yet, as though there will be a time when it will be so. This keeps artists from building their audiences. It keeps them from connecting. It keeps their work limited, almost no one but the artist glimpsing it. What if it never reaches the artist’s idea of perfection so nobody at all gets to witness it? This outcome, to me, a person who so badly needs art, is tragic.
Perfectionism keeps us from growing and developing. If an artist won’t let people in before something is perfect (and remember, nothing is ever perfect) then they can’t get vital feedback and support for their work as it develops. Some smart, supportive and well-timed questions and reflections can help push your work further than you imagined but that can only happen if you let others in and that requires you to override the need for perfection before outside eyes are allowed in.
Perfectionism keeps us from ending. Artworks can be tinkered with until death. When is a piece finished? Usually, when the artist decides it’s done or they can’t stand to work on it any longer or a deadline comes up. I’ve witnessed many artists endlessly rework a film, a score, a painting, a manuscript because their perfectionism tells them it’s not finished yet. There is a distinction between artwork revealing itself fully and the perfection-motivated sense that it may never be finished.

I get stuck in perfectionism just like you. I put off writing season two of this very podcast because I was stuck in the perfection/procrastination loop: if I can’t write the script in its final form on the first try, it must mean I suck and I should give up. But I’m so glad I didn’t give up because if you’re connecting with my words right now, it means overriding perfectionism was worth it. So how do we counter perfectionism? I have a few ideas for you.

First: counter your perfectionism. What is it telling you? Do the opposite. For example, if your brain is telling you, “don’t work on your novel because you don’t know how to do it right in the first draft” then I want you to take a counter action by doing the opposite. In this case, it means working on your novel anyway. If your brain tells you, ‘don’t let anyone see this work in progress because it’s not perfect yet,’ then invite in a trusted, supportive friend. Tell them you want to know what they like about the work, what they want more of, and to tell you to KEEP GOING.

Second: pomodoro technique - set a timer for 20 minutes and work on the thing with permission to be imperfect, unfinished, maybe even mediocre. Telling myself something can be mediocre is liberating and the end result is always better than mediocre. We can do something for 20 minutes that scares us too much to do for an hour.

Third: conjure up an artist in your mind who you love. What would you tell them if they expressed their perfection-based fears to you? What if they said they weren’t going to share their work anymore because it’s not perfect? Imagine how much you love their work. What would it be like for them to point out all the mistakes they see, everything they think they did wrong? What would you say? How would you encourage them to override perfectionism? Give yourself that love and support.

Fourth: a practice-based practice. By this I mean having a part of your creative life that is totally detached from outcomes and expertise. Maybe you try something brand new that you know nothing about. Maybe it’s in a classroom setting, where you are one among many learners cultivating a beginners’ mind. Maybe it’s an artistic discipline you think yourself to be particularly bad at, giving yourself permission to just have wild fun with it. You’re a writer? Try picking up an instrument. You’re a visual artist? Take some movement classes. You’re a sound artist? Get into making comics. Try something very different from your area of experience and expertise.

Finally, let me know how it goes. I’d love to hear from you.