Ah, perfectionist paralysis — I know it well. It’s that belief that nothing I create is, or ever could be, good enough.
It’s what kept me NOT creating for decades.
And it’s epidemic!
If you’ve ever found yourself NOT creating, mired in resistance because your gremlins have convinced you that your writing/art/music/macaroni sculptures just weren’t good enough, this is for YOU. Read on…
Do you have a favorite musician, or writer or artist? Someone whose work touches you deeply, who moves and inspires you?
Maybe someone whose work got you through a tough time.
Or compelled you to think in a new way.
Or makes you smile as you pass it in the hall every day.
Or just jazzes you up when you need a little jazzing.
Now, let me ask you, how would your life be different – be lacking – without their creative contribution?
What if..?
Imagine that years ago, before you ever discovered her or him, this person whose work means so much to you decided it wasn’t good enough to share with the world, and kept it hidden.
Or worse, imagine that they became disgusted with their previous works and suddenly inherited the magical ability to disappear everything they’d ever created.
All the art (or music, or writing, or whatever) that had so touched you would instantaneously disintegrate, never to be partaken of again.
How does that make you feel?
I had the chance to experience that feeling in a profound way not too long ago. Just before heading home from music camp a few summers back, I got into a conversation with one of the teachers, a phenomenally skilled musician.
With a serious perfectionist streak.
This teacher’s command of multiple instruments is mind-boggling. This is one of those people who makes everything look effortless. Countless hours of dedicated practice have created not just technical proficiency, but exquisite expressive ability.
So it was a huge surprise to me when our conversation revealed a deep frustration underneath what, to me, was obvious talent and skill.
“I just don’t feel like I connect” was the astonishing confession, “my playing never matches what I want to express.”
And, most astonishing of all, “I’d really like to recall every single CD I ever produced.”
The very idea broke my heart.
Get the Poster!
It’s a colorful, hand-lettered version of my Imperfectionist Manifesto, combined with my Creative Sandbox Manifesto, so you get two posters in one!
It’s ready for printing and posting on your wall where you can consult it daily (I sure do!) Just click the link to download:
The Creative Gap
Although I was astonished at this incredible musician’s flagellating self-judgment, I sympathized only too well with the concept.
I get it.
The fact is, there’s always a gap between what you want to produce – the Platonic Ideal that you have for your creative work – and what you’re able to create in reality.
This creative gap is at its most dramatic when you’re new at something, still honing your skills, working on your as-yet-nonexistent chops.
This American Life’s Ira Glass describes the creative gap very effectively in this little video excerpt:
The Beauty of Pursuit
What Ira doesn’t mention is that the gap is always there.
No matter how skilled you get, if you’re a creative person with taste, you are by definition always seeking to close that gap.
In truth, as long as it doesn’t stop us in our tracks, I think the gap is what keeps us driving forward. It’s the pursuit of mastery, rather than the achievement of it, that makes the whole thing interesting. (Click to tweet!)
Seriously, if you didn’t have something to work on and hone, wouldn’t you ultimately get kinda bored? I know I would. (Which explains why I tend to pick passions – calligraphy, jazz, songwriting, Argentine tango – that elude notions of “ultimate mastery”…)
The Imperfectionist Manifesto
Confession time: I’m a recovering perfectionist myself. My goal now is to be an imperfectionist, someone who takes imperfect action, rather than waiting for perfection (click to tweet!) – which is, after all, kind of like Waiting for Godot. Or Guffman.
Here’s what I’ve discovered – my in-process/imperfect Imperfectionist Manifesto:
Get the Poster!
• Even if you can’t stand what you’ve created, you never know how it may affect somebody else.
The musician I mentioned above is a case in point. I guarantee you the people who bought those CDs and witnessed those live performances had a very different feeling about the work than the musician’s flagellating self-judgment.
In my own life, it’s frequently the work that I feel less-than-satisfied with that gets the most positive response.
More than once I’ve posted a snapshot online of a painting that I was planning to paint over (because it was so crappy), only to have someone ask to buy it! (Go figure!)
I can imagine a couple of possible responses here:
- Assume that the person is bat-shit crazy.
- Open up to the possibility that their positive opinion may actually have some validity.
Trust me, choosing number 2 is a much happier way to live.
Instead of assuming that someone who likes my self-described “crappy” work is a nut with horrible taste, I float the possibility that their positive opinion may have some validity.
I still get to have my own opinion. I still get to feel crappy about my work if I want to, but rather than doubt my taste, I’ve learned to appreciate other people’s.
We may always disagree, and that’s okay, but I’ve had enough delighted responses to stuff I was tempted to trash to understand that something I think is “crap” may very well change someone else’s life for the better, even if only by making them smile.
• Ultimate value doesn’t always have anything to do with technical skill.
Recovering perfectionists such as myself have a hard time wrapping our heads around this one, but it’s true. Technique is great, but it’s sooooooooo not everything. (Um, Bob Dylan’s singing, anyone?)
At music camp that summer, one of the most entertaining acts in the student concert was a group of guys playing ukulele and singing who were not particularly technically skilled. (One of them had picked up the ukulele for the first time that week.) They felt sucky about the performance, even wished they hadn’t gone onstage at all. As an audience member, though, I found them utterly delightful.
One of the most memorable dance performances I ever saw was a man who was technically extremely limited, but a gripping performer. He didn’t do much more than walk, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. The acrobatic ballerinas in the ensemble didn’t compel me nearly as much.
My experiences of those evenings would have been much less enjoyable, and much less memorable, if those technically limited performances had never happened.
Plus guess what? Seeing those imperfect performers helped me feel a sense of permission that I could perform, too! What a gift!
Please, please don’t hide your creativity because you don’t feel your technique is up to snuff!
• Putting stuff out into the world is really gratifying, and can help you see it with more appreciative eyes.
Yes, it can be scary as hell, but human beings are social creatures. We’re wired to want to connect. Sharing what we create is one way we do that.
No, not everyone will like what you do. But the response that you get from people who do will nourish you and make you want to do more.
And here’s the really cool thing: when you share your creative work and start to get positive responses to it, it can help you see your work through other people’s (more neutral) eyes.
See, to paraphrase a calligraphy teacher of mine, Peter Thornton:
Other people see your work for what it is. YOU see your work for what it isn’t. (Click to tweet!)
You tend to only see where your work is lacking. Where it differs from the vision you had for it in your head.
But other people don’t have that point of comparison! All they see is what’s there, not what isn’t there.
When someone responds positively to what’s there, it helps me to take off my “gremlin glasses,” which color everything with the critical voices of my gremlins, and put on the neutral glasses of the viewer.
In other words, it helps me to see my work through their eyes, even as if I were looking at someone else’s work instead of my own.
In this way, sharing my imperfect work has enabled me to not only appreciate it more, but to have more compassion for my work, and for myself as its imperfect creator.
One caveat, though. It’s important to note that sharing your work to see it through other people’s eyes is different from sharing your work in an attempt to seek praise and validation.
I know your biggest fear is that people will judge you for your imperfect work, but if you can open up
• Allowing yourself to be imperfect is a helluva lot more fun.
Being a perfectionist is not a fun way to live. In fact, it’s really stressful. Imperfectionists are just more relaxed, happier, and generally a lot more fun to be around, too.
• The more you let yourself be imperfect, the more stuff you’ll actually do, and the better you’ll get at it.
Therein lies the irony.
Do you know the story about the college ceramics class? At the beginning of the term, the teacher divided them into two groups: all the students on one side of the classroom would be graded solely on the quality on their pots; all the students on the other side would be graded solely on the quantity.
It’s not surprising that the quantity group had acres more fun, chatting and laughing as they threw crappy pots one after another, while the quality group agonized on the other side of the room. But guess which group got better grades? Also the quantity group – they cranked out so many pots that they figured out through doing how to make good ones.
As Ira Glass says in the video above, the most important possible thing you can do is do a lot of work.
An invitation
Consider this post my personal invitation to you to join me in the ranks of the Imperfectionists.
Let’s create a movement of artists and creatives, committed to Imperfection at all costs.
Update 2/26/14: After realizing that the only reason I hadn’t expanded my Imperfectionist Manifesto into a poster was (wait for it..) perfectionism, I bit the bullet and got to work. Now my poster is available for purchase here, AND for free below!
Click the button to download a FREE printable version, with BOTH of my manifestos!
To see start-to-finish process pics, and read about the manifesto’s creation, click here. For a fine art print of the artwork above, visit my Zazzle shop.
How do you intend to commit to Imperfection? Is there anything you’d add to the Imperfectionist Manifesto?
PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!
This post was originally published on 7/31/11.
I like this. I think this would be a great post to link to with a sidebar badge. Personally, I’ve come to being less perfectionist by really adopting the process of making as what I am interested in.
Thanks Miss P! So glad you like it. I love the idea of a sidebar badge. I think I’ll add the Imperfectionist Manifesto to my About and Start Here pages, and watch for a sidebar badge too!
I love your approach – although I do hope to create wonderful end-products, like you, I find focusing on process to be ultimately more satisfying. It’s also how I’ve managed to move toward Imperfectionism.
Hi Melissa!
Way to keep it REAL! As a recovering perfectionist, I am picking up what you are laying down. Thank you for being an example of walkin’ the talk for us creative souls out there.
Take care,
Christine
Hi Christine,
Hooray! Recovering Perfectionists unite!
xom
I think that’s so true… perfectionism after all is just an illusion… because after all …what is perfect according to you, might be completely flawed according to someone else. Perfectionism is an excuse used by those people who don’t want to do anything! Count me in… Imperfectionism rules!!
You make such a great point, Manasi! When I wrote this post I was thinking about how what is IMperfect according to you might be wonderful according to someone else, but it works the other way ’round as well. So here all we Perfectionists are (or Recovering Perfectionists were), driving ourselves into the ground in pursuit of perfection that may never be recognized as such by anyone, even if we ever manage to achieve it.
Better to seek imperfect excellence, I think.
Just to clarify, in case anyone was wondering, my version of Imperfectionism does not mean striving for mediocrity; rather an acceptance and enjoyment of where you are right now. It’s so much more fun to live that way, don’t you think?
I am striving for this as well, I have come a lot farther then I ever thought I could a couple years ago when I decided to be messy-on-purpose. Talk about throwing fists against my OCD tendencies, but now I have controlled clutter. I am still really neat and clean but there are certain areas that I no longer spend all my time agonizing over and it allows me to have more time to be creative and do my thing!
♥
THAT is inspiring, Emily! I don’t personally have the “overly neat” problem… Having been raised by a very OCD/super-neat-and-tidy mother, however, my issue is letting myself feel OK about that! 😉 Ironically, my mom has often confessed that she wishes she didn’t obsess so much over tidiness — it takes a lot of time and energy.
A certain amount of organization is, of course, really important. But extreme tidiness will probably never happen in my world, and it’s good to remember that it’s not actually necessary to be a good person (despite my programming otherwise!) 😀
Another superb written piece, Melissa. Our schooling raises us to be perfectionists (which focuses success on results), and yet for creativity to thrive, we need to feel free to get down and dirty and into a space of discovery, which is about PROCESS. I burst out laughing over the example of “crappy pots” :-). In fact, I think “crappy pots” may become my “imperfectionist” motto because it will make me laugh and encourage me to create, rather than critique. There is also so much excitement to the reality that even if what we create is lacking to us, it can speaks buckets to someone else.
Thanks so much, Belinda! You and I were *definitely* the products of perfectionist schooling!
I love “crappy pots” as a motto. 🙂 Let’s make lots of crappy pots!
And YES — whatever we create will almost always feel lacking to US, but may speak buckets, as you say, to someone else. 🙂
Perfectionism becomes preventive paralysis…just do it anyway. Perfect can happen another time. Please pass the permanent markers….
Cyd
YES, exactly, Cyd! When we can let perfect happen another time, it frees us to act NOW. 🙂
This manifesto was shared on my Facebook page recently. I wanted to address my question to you, since it is your work.
How can the act of making bad drawings repeatedly lead to the ability to make good drawings? If my technical knowledge is not progressing, how can my technical ability improve? I don’t understand how this is related to creativity; if I understand the concept correctly, I am already very creative. Being able to translate it into marks on paper – a technical skill – is what I desire. And if I practice drawing without understanding what I am doing, how can I acquire it.
It reminds me of Nick Meglin’s book, “Drawing From Within”. The first exercise is on the unimportance of materials, and instructs the reader to select three media (e.g., pen, brush, marker) and draw a human form. Nowhere are we told *how*.
Thank you for your time and attention.
Robert Walker-Smith
RWlkrSmith@Gmail.com
Thanks for asking, Robert, and giving me a chance to clarify. From your question, I suspect that the Imperfectionist Manifesto is not addressing a problem that you personally have. (Though I could be wrong! Let me know if I am.)
When I encourage people via my Imperfectionist Manifesto to “make crap daily,” it is not that I really want them to make bad drawings (or whatever they’re creating); it’s that I want them simply to CREATE.
See, for perfectionists, nothing but perfection will do, and the FEAR of making something that is less than perfect paralyzes them completely, so they end up creating nothing at all.
This is a tragedy. It is what kept me away from writing for fifteen years, and kept me away from painting for another fifteen years, and it’s something I’m passionate about changing.
The real problem is that perfectionists are so critical of our own work that we deem everything we create to be crappy! Other people might even marvel at what they see as excellence, but a perfectionist will only see where it lacks, where it doesn’t match up with their platonic vision, and that perceived lack is so painful, all too often we end up quitting altogether.
THIS is the problem I am attempting to tackle with my Imperfectionist Manifesto.
For these folks (and yes, this includes me), the challenge is to get over the fear of making bad work, and if we give ourselves permission to make imperfect, even crappy work, it enables us to do SOMETHING. To at least START. And only by starting can we learn to get better!
And the thing is, especially for perfectionists, just because you allow yourself to create crap doesn’t mean you WILL. Besides, for perfectionists, creating truly bad work is rarely the actual problem; the real problem is simply getting ourselves to create AT ALL.
I agree with you absolutely that in order to improve we also need to hone technical skills, and I would be the first to state that my imperative to “make crap daily” does NOT mean to be sloppy. Quite the opposite. One can be a practicing imperfectionist while also continually striving for excellence, including technical improvement.
One can set a goal to “make crap daily” while also analyzing what is working/not working about what one creates, and bringing that analysis forward to inform the next creation.
One can be a practicing imperfectionist without being sloppy, a practicing imperfectionist who strives at all times to improve one’s craft and skills.
But if one never creates at all, then we all lose.
Thank you for your detailed response. I have read it through several times, and discussed my concerns with my husband. One thing that came up was my resistance to the sentence ‘you don’t have to be good to have fun.’ How does having fun enter into it? If I do not experience the process of creation as ‘fun’, how should I approach this? Is ‘having fun’ a goal, or should it be an immediate priority? Do artists differ from non-artists in this respect? Should I attempt different techniques in an attempt to discover what might be experienced as ‘fun’? I am very concerned about this. For some reason, I am attracted to the idea of creating art, but some of your exhortations make me unsure if I am, in fact, the sort of person who should be doing so.
Sincerely yours,
Robert Walker-Smith
Well, I went ahead and created something without asking for permission (or having received acknowledgement). It was a birthday card for my husband. I don’t know if it was good or not. I don’t know if I should have made it or not. This is what we go through, that people like you don’t understand. We don’t HAVE to create – we choose to do it. That brings us an entirely different kind of torment. Should we even be doing this? Shouldn’t we leave it to people like Melissa Dinwiddie? What does it mean that we WANT to do this, when we are so unsuited to the task? Why do the Talented Tenth urge us on? These thoughts occupy me.
Oh, and also – we are exhorted to create, but not to be sloppy. How can we know if we’re being sloppy? Who is competent to so instruct us? What constitutes an acceptable degree of sloppiness? What metric do we use to measure how much less sloppy we have become since the last time we checked? What is the acceptable degree of improvement over a given period of time? These things concern me.
It’s all subjective, Robert. If you feel you are being sloppy, then you are. If you know you are making an effort, then no matter what anyone else says, it doesn’t count as sloppy.
The acceptable degree of improvement is up to you. 🙂
Kudos for creating without waiting for permission, Robert! And you’re wrong: I don’t HAVE to create, either. I choose to, because my life goes better when I do. 🙂
I have the exact same voices in my head, asking if I should even be doing this. Shouldn’t I leave it to other people who are so much “better” at it? Who do I think I am?
My answer for many years was, “Yes, leave it to those others.” Thankfully, eventually I realized that the reason to do something is not to be “good” at it, or to impress people, or because you’re are suited to the task. The reason is simply to feed my desires. The purpose is joy. Or satisfaction. Or something.
Often I don’t like what I create. Martha Graham famously said “No artist is ever pleased.” Yet I create anyway, because something about creating feeds me, even when I don’t like the end product.
You are not alone in these thoughts, by any means!
Thank you. That explanation was much appreciated.
Robert
You’re welcome, Robert! Glad it was helpful. 🙂
Melissa, I love your Imperfectionist Manifesto, and your posts. Thank you!
Aw, thanks, Pat. 🙂
WOW!Now you’ve really got my attention M. Dinwiddie!
And this conversation with ” Robert”.
I have been doing acrylic paintings, mostly abstract in a household where every motive for every activity is questioned by philosphers and theologians whom I am priviledged to be challenged by!
I think artists of all “stripes” are compelled to make art. WE throw ourselves into life in such a way that expression becomes necessary for us and sometimes painful. I have done several large works of art for ArtPrize in Grand Rapids Michigan. I would sneak out at 4am with my 2 year old granddaughter to a church down the street to work on my mural ( a 20 feet long canvas). When I finally got to put paint on the canvas, it was with anguish and ecstasy. I chose to do it but at the same time “it happened to me”. I have read that it takes 10,000 hours of doing an activity to master it and badly wanting to improve and connecting my expression to my work, I started doing 100 paintings in a series. They were all done on 11″x14″ canvases, named, dated, logged in a little black book, photographed, and ideally uploaded. Sometimes I painted over and over on one canvas but at some point the painting was finished. Sometimes I loved it , sometimes I hated it. It was a discipline, a practice. I have been crippled by the surrounding criticism of late, but after reading these posts, am empowered to start it again. Painting is like worship and like a celebration. The process is more important and more beneficial than the outcome, but the outcome can be worthwhile. To Robert, making that card was a step toward life.
It could have blown away in the wind, but you were improved by it. We were made in God’s image and we long to create because we are like Him.
Thanks Melissa, I will always read your emails and long for the day I can join one of your programs.
“I have been crippled by the surrounding criticism of late, but after reading these posts, am empowered to start it again.”
This makes me so happy, Nancy! That is exactly what I hope my work will accomplish: getting people creating! 🙂
“Painting is like worship and like a celebration.”
Amen! I could not put it more beautifully. Whatever your creative expression, it is worship and celebration all wrapped into one. 🙂
Sigh. Nailed me. I was once a complete and total perfectionist. VERY emphatic on photo-realism drawings. Then I walked away. It wasn’t good enough. I stayed away from art for 17 years, but tumbled back into it in a messy emotional cathartic sort of way. The charm of the imperfect gripped and freed me. And yet, now, here I am trying to make something of myself as an artist and that standard of excellence is returning in different ways. It hasn’t yet shut me down, but I can feel the warm breath on my neck. I have to watch myself. Guard myself. Talk to myself. Keep that compassion at the forefront.
We are such soul sisters, Mandy! Although I was never a photo-realist, I was an EXTREME perfectionist in my art, and also stayed away — for 15 years from 13-28, and then for over a decade while making a living FROM my art (art that I made for CLIENTS.)
I have also come to fall in love with the charm of the imperfect. AND I still have a standard of excellence. It’s an interesting tightrope to walk — striving for excellence, while honoring imperfection. I have to watch myself too, all the time, and yes, keep compassion at the forefront!
Hi Melissa!
I was so happy to come across your Imperfectionist Manifesto. My issues with perfectionism started as a child, and I have been struggling with it all of my life. It has kept me from creativity, fulfilling relationships, and from self-compassion. It blinded me for a long time, and I didn’t realize it. A few years ago, I started recognizing this in myself, but it took me a long time to start DOING anything about it. I started a blog about imperfectionism, and I have been writing in it consistently without sharing it with others. Recently, I decided to start sharing it with others because like you said, “you never know how it will affect somebody else.” It’s all about the journey, and our willingness to be imperfect. Love your manifesto, and I’ll be sharing it with the world as well. Thank you!
Hi Saeah! Perfectionism kept me down for most of my life, too, yet I was so resistant to let go of it! Wish I’d figured out how to embrace imperfectionism sooner — it’s a much kinder, gentler, happier way to live. 🙂
I love your blog! Kudos and congrats for finally sharing it!! It deserves to be seen far and wide. 🙂 xom
Melissa, thank you for this article! It made me realize that I’m a perfectionist many times… Which sounds “great”, but just doesn’t help me start anything really new.
So I’m going to let go of my high expectations, and just start doing it.
Most successful people are said to be perfectionist, but I’m sure there are at least as many who are imperfectionists. I know Woody Allen is one of them. Maybe you have a few examples too, would be great to hear it!
Oh, how I relate! How often have I used “I’m a perfectionist” as a flag of glory? How often have I heard other people do the same? Perfectionism kills creativity and joy. The successful people I know and admire most are seekers of EXCELLENCE, but not perfectionists. There’s a big difference. 🙂
Melissa,
This article really spoke to me, a recovering perfectionist. It was helpful to read how we are often unaware of the impact of our work so holding back may be denying someone else their inspiration. If you have the time, please check out my recent blog post on Imperfectionism at http://www.prettyjoyful.com. It’s a similar take on the concept. Thanks for this post!