The Art of Doing

Unlocking potential by rejecting perfection.

Knowing that there was ever a time when I called or even considered myself a perfectionist is hilarious. It's so silly to think that I believed any amount of effort, time, or learning on my part could result in a perfect outcome. It now feels so naive.

I have discovered that there is truth to what they say: the more you learn, the less you know. The Dunning-Kruger effect is a cognitive bias named after Cornell psychologists, who coined the term in a 1999 paper titled "Unskilled and Unaware of It: How Difficulties in Recognizing One's Own Incompetence Lead to Inflated Self-Assessments." In my case, it was not that I did not recognize my deficiencies, but rather that I was always too focused on overcoming them because I felt I could. Perhaps seeing it this way sounds critical of myself, but moving away from this idea of an achievable perfect result has pushed me to think less about outcome and more about the process.

In the past few years, I have become quite fixated on process, because I feel that is where the beauty is to be found. My interests, research, reading and travel result in an endless yearning to learn more. My professional work has allowed me to break out of the perfectionism mindset. I am required to work using an iterative process including repeated testing, collaboration, and refinement to result in a product that is undeniably better than its original version. Operating this way requires you to think about what is next, not necessarily what is final. I would argue perfectionism requires similar effort, but the mindset of the process is fundamentally different. While iteration requires you to be open and flexible, perfectionism is like a rigid room that you lock yourself inside, only exiting when you decide your result cannot be improved any longer. When it comes to my creative pursuits, I often feel like an endless source of ideas, but what happens if those ideas never leave my self-created cage? Nothing. Nothing happens, and that is precisely the issue. This is why I have begun to change my perspective, focusing on the process, doing things with honesty and intention, but also just simply doing them. 

The more I learn, the more I realize how much there is left to discover. This fuels my desire to keep exploring, which brings us here, a new medium, a new platform, and an opportunity for me to share my journey with you.

Staying true to my habits, I wrote everything you’ve read so far months before what I am writing now. The irony is amusing but also frustrating as I read through my own draft. I share this with you in the name of honesty and authenticity, two values I find myself constantly reflecting on, particularly because I’ve felt quite fraudulent in recent years. As a lifelong creative who pursues different mediums, I’ve stopped publicly sharing any of my work. There was a time when I was paid to create art. Today it is something that is all mine, which makes me extra protective of it. At times, this makes me feel like it doesn’t exist however, even though I know that isn’t true.

Recently two events helped me pushed on. The first was a visit to Luna Luna, a spectacular showcase of the world’s first art amusement park, lost since 1987. The story of its abandonment stirred something inside me. Sitting in a random field in Texas, this beloved art was forgotten, but it retained all of its meaning and value even when no one saw it. It also reminded me so much of the quote from Van Gogh, written in a letter addressed to his brother Theo dated January 16, 1885.

"If I make better work later, I still won’t work otherwise than now; I mean it will be the same apple only riper — I myself won’t turn from what I’ve thought from the start. And this is why I say for my part, if I’m no good now, I won’t be any good later either — but if later, then now too. For wheat is wheat, even if it looks like grass at first to townsfolk — and the other way round too."

The second moment happened at a recent gathering with friends. In the middle of a conversation, a friend stopped me mid-sentence, she mentioned that she could see my aura very clearly, “glowing brightly in a ring around you”. Then, looking above my head, she asked if I had been exploring any new creative mediums. Shocked, I enthusiastically said yes. She described seeing what she called a clear “download” in my aura, a glowing beam of violet. I haven’t stopped thinking about what she said that night. Whether you believe in such things or not, I truly believe somethings can be felt better than they can be explained. In that moment, she sensed something within me, buzzing to be released. If others can feel it, maybe it’s time I embrace it too.

As I dive into topics that capture my curiosity, I’ll share what I uncover. I’m not an expert, and I don’t expect to become one. I can’t promise perfection, but I promise to do it anyway.