Have no fear of perfection – you’ll never reach it. —Salvador Dali
Please pardon me for name dropping, but this story loses significance without it.
Standing next to the late Helmut Newton one day, he reached into his bag and pulled out his old 35mm camera, sans lens cap, checked his film, and started shooting. After having taken about a dozen shots, he turns the camera around and looks at the lens; it was covered in dust. The whole camera, for that matter, was somewhat less tidy than one might expect. Worn, obviously well-used, there were smudges and dirt on the body as well as the lens. Helmut sighed, took out his shirttail, and quickly rubbed it over the face of the lens.
One of his long-time assistants ran over with a different lens and said, “Here, this one’s clean.”
Helmut replied, “But this is the one I want; it’ll do.” He then proceeded to finish the set, creating wonderful images with an interesting touch of texture in the shadows.
Some have called Newton’s photography perfection, but I was there; it wasn’t. While there were things he would fuss about, especially regarding composition relative to light, there were plenty of other issues he let slide. He was always more concerned with the creative aspect than he was perfection.
By contrast, anyone who has worked around photographers in general, especially younger photographers, has met that one who is never quite satisfied. They’ll mess with lights for hours, fuss over the slightest wrinkle in a backdrop, scream about whether there is enough white showing in a model’s eyes, and complain that everything on the set is not perfect. They produce technically accurate photos, but their images lack any passion or creativity.
I’m not saying one shouldn’t strive for a certain amount of excellence in their work. By all means, whether one is taking a picture or writing a song or painting a landscape there is a given standard of excellence below which a work is not considered viable. To be so consumed with the ultimate perfection in one’s work, though, achieves only technical excellence and results in work that is ultimately boring.
Perfection is not just a creative problem, but a psychological issue. A 2008 article in Psychology Today states that, “… perfectionism is a crime against humanity.” Our society requires flexibility, adaptation, and accepting ambiguity if we are to survive. Being a perfectionist makes one a slave in addition to creative a level of psychological stress. Perfectionists equate mistakes with complete failure and who can stand up to that kind of pressure?
Diana C. Pitaru, M.S., L.P.C. has written a three-part article on the perils of perfection wherein she states:
At the core, perfectionism is about fears of failure and rejection and trying to keep ourselves protected. Perfectionism is a defense that tricks us into believing that it protects us. If we perceive the possibility of an attack, we get back into our shell to protect ourselves. When we engage in this never ending cycle, we self-sabotage and set ourselves for failure.
Creativity defies perfection. Being creative means taking risks, breaking rules, stretching outside one’s comfort zone and taking sometimes severe risks. Perhaps one of the biggest risks is that other people may not like your work. Again, that’s not to say that there aren’t standards, but when we’re being our most creative we are also most susceptible to criticism. We are always targets of criticism for those who just don’t “get it,” but we should never let that keep us from trying something different, something new.
I look back through my archives at various attempts to do something different. Some I absolutely abhor and shudder to think that I ever shared them publicly; they no longer meet my standards for which is acceptable. I look at others, though, and wish that I could maintain that same level of creativity in everything I do. Yet, one of the challenges of being creativity is that it is not a constant. As new ideas pass through our mind some are inevitably more viable than others. Sometimes we don’t have the resources, in other instances we don’t have the time. With such fluctuating variables, attempting to impose perfection on top of it all simply opens the door to what we perceive as failure.
I wrote yesterday how frustrated I am with the boring state of the arts and how popular culture has imploded. Our drive toward perfection has led to a sameness that is void of passion. There is a lack of experimentation and no one is ready to take risks. Too often, even when one does take risks and tries to buck “the system,” they get shut down, de-funded, or otherwise ignored.
The solution requires more than just changing our personal attitudes toward perfection but simultaneously rejecting it from the media we consume. Avoid the boring. Stay away from the movies that are just like all the other drivel you’ve seen. Avoid the music that sounds exactly like all the other drivel you hear. Don’t accept digitally driven perfection that compromises true creativity.
Perfection is the enemy because it cannot, ever, be achieved and our drive toward that unattainable goal blocks our ability to be creative. Let your creativity run free, let mistakes happen. We’ll all be happier for it.
Partial Truths, Whole Lies
Political language… is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind. —George Orwell
When all we see is a sliver of the truth, do we assume that everything else is a lie?
I’ve spent the better part of two hours this morning looking through headlines and newspapers and magazine articles. Through all of it, the lyrics to Don Henley’s 1989 hit, Heart of the Matter, keep running through my mind:
The more I know, the less I understand
All the things I thought I knew, I’m learning again
I’ve been tryin’ to get down to the Heart of the Matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think it’s about forgiveness
Bonus points if you just sang that in your head as you read it.
For all the bulk of information available, I can’t help but have the feeling that I’m not getting the whole truth about anything. I know some articles, especially those shared on social media, are outright lies. Snopes helps weed out some of the most blantant attempts at deception, but their focus tends to lean toward simply outing the lies; they don’t necessarily bring us that much closer to the truth.
So, there’s a story this morning where the headline reads: Police: Virginia Officer Fataly Shot Day After Swearing In. My heart wants to break; the female officer had left the force for a few years, one would presume perhaps to start a family, and then returned. The story is tragic. Oh, but buried in the article is the fact that a “civilian,” also a woman, lost her life in the event as well. She may have been dead before police even arrived. Her name is not mentioned. The condition of the two other officers shot during the same altercation is not mentioned. A partial story, woefully incomplete. Tragedies on both counts, to be sure, but we don’t have the truth, which makes us susceptible to lies.
Anywhere there is a shadow of doubt, where there are questions not adequately answered, where the truth is not plainly evident, we are open to lies. People, and media, can tell us anything when there is an absence of known truth and even if the pieces to the story don’t fit well, there are always those inclined to believe, no matter how obvious the lie might be to those who stop and think a moment. This is why we have conspiracy theories, because in the absence of complete truth, our minds can imagine anything they want.
We can blame the Internet only in part. Granted, the fact that, once something happens, anywhere in the world, there is a rush to get information online, seems to inevitably lead to stories like the one above. When there is pressure to say something so that a media source does not appear out of the loop, even incomplete information seems to suffice. Yet, long before the Internet, there were shadows in the information we receive.
Don’t believe me? Tell me, who shot John F. Kennedy? The depths of the shadows surrounding that case cause us to question whether Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. Sure, that is the official account, but even in Congressional testimonies there were enough lies and attempts to obsfucate the facts that we have reason to doubt official sources. Minus a sense of the truth, we make up our own: the FBI was behind it, the CIA did it, there was a monkey with a pea shooter on the grassy knowel. Anything might be the truth when we don’t know what the truth is.
Partial truths are foundational in advertising. Would you still buy a product if you know that doing so directly contributed to the deforestation of the rain forests, or that the product had blown up in 57 of 58 lab tests? The only place where “truth in advertising” really starts to have any meaning is with prescription medicines. I know everyone has seen the ad where 20 of the 30 seconds is spent telling you all the possible, horrible, death-inducing side effects. Yet, somehow, for some reason, those ads still work. If the truth that a medicine may cause “premature anal leakage” doesn’t keep us from wanting the product, why doesn’t the truth work elsewhere?
Because sometimes we would rather just believe the lies. When the truth runs in opposition to what we want, we’re willing to compromise. If we want to see a conspiracy, we’ll find one, even if it is totally fictional. A perfect example of this is the anti-GMO crowd. Guess what: GMOs are not only not killing you, they’re probably saving your life. Without GMOs, global food prices would sky rocket, making everything unaffordable, even the most basic of grains. Hunger, which is already a significant issue, would more than triple. Some foods would simply cease to exist. Yet, because we thrive on drama and enjoy believing that “they” are out to get us, millions of people choose to believe the lies about genetically modified organisms, totally ignoring the truth.
I won’t even start on how politicians contribute to and thrive upon partial truths and whole lies. No matter what I say, no matter what anyone says, we make up our minds based on emotion, not fact. We vote for the candidate that makes us feel better, not the one who might actually help the country the most. For that matter, we dont’ really have a clue what would help the country the most. All we have are partial truths and whole lies.
And conspiracy theories.
Watch, the next tme you see someone post a statement on Facebook in hopes that, by doing so, Mark Zuckerberg or Bill Gates or Warren Buffect might give them money, see how many people buy into the lie, “just in case.” We know those stupid games are not true, but yet they spread like wildfire. We don’t want to believe the whole truth. We know the billionaires are rich and have a history of charitable giving, so we’re willing to take just that tiny sliver of partial truth as a basis for believing a wholesale lie.
The more I know, the less I understand.
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