Deep Thought Thursday: Perfection and the artist

Found this on Wikipedia and thought it was interesting: The oldest definition of “perfection”, fairly precise and distinguishing the shades of the concept, goes back to Aristotle. In Book Delta of the Metaphysics, he distinguishes three meanings of the term, or rather three shades of one meaning, but in any case three different concepts. That is perfect: 1. which is complete — which contains all the requisite parts; 2. which is so good that nothing of the kind could be better; 3. which has attained its purpose.

But I think most artists are in the business of seeking perfection, at least within their disciplines. I don’t think many of us are happy when our artwork falls short of perfection. Perhaps we can learn to live with it, but I think not happily. Perhaps the warning is to avoid the attempt to attain perfection outside the artistic realm.

Oddly I never try for perfection in my art. It has its own energy and it comes and goes as the process happens (all in one sitting for me – otherwise it doesn’t work). But perfection? Completion, maybe, the feeling of “done.” I actually like the little blip here and there – what the Native Americans used to build into their pottery. Perfection isn’t possible, why beat your head against an immovable wall? You want perfection? Buy machine made.

just a thought but isn’t it the fact that our work is never perfect that keeps us striving to do better? If the great masters believed they had achieved perfection they would probably stopped working. Once perfection has been achieved would there be reason to continue? What else could be achieved?

I gave up the idea of “perfection” long ago, both in my art and in my housekeeping…lol. For me, making art is an ongoing and infinite experience, and “perfection” implies stasis or an “end point,” as in the idea of a fixed and specific goal. To me, art is neither. Making art is a dynamic and joyous experience, a process of discovery in which passion is balanced with restraint, to create something that didn’t exist before. Take the discovery out of it, and you might as well be folding laundry! Every work, whether it be painting, writing, or music, can be taken in a thousand directions. So nothing can really be called “finished,” let alone “perfect.”