I Hereby Abandon (read: publish) My First Blog-post

A lot is written, told and taught about creative people and perfectionism. First of all, much is written about all kinds of people and perfectionism; those of us who makes things are actually not that special, even though we like to picture ourselves as being separate from the rest of humanity. At least sometimes.

But we are people too. Some of us are struggling to feel good enough, just like everybody else. “Enough” is not really a tangible goal, is it? And not knowing where to place the finish line is a perfectly good way of not ever getting anything done. Ever.

A poem is never finished, only abandoned.
– Paul Valery

Rumors have it the saying also is valid for paintings, musical pieces and drawings as well. But the issue with the whole abandoning act is that «abandoned» is not a synonym for published, shared, enjoyed or shown. Abandoned means a drawer, a hard drive. A pile of papers, ideas and illustrations that are either virtual or physical in nature. Works of art. Perhaps works utterly forgotten. Or pieces that slowly turn themselves into little voices of guilty consciousness. Not a cute consciousness, like Timmy the Grasshopper, but something more Wormtoungesque. Telling you that you will never get them done, that they will never reach the finish line of enough.

After a while, their nature change again. Into something different. Something…

More quiet.

Until you’ve forgotten all about them. The little voices of the abandoned artworks. Gone.

A sad thought indeed.

Which is why I am currently working on opening the drawers and bring some of my ideas out in the open. – which of course is scary as hell.

In other words, this is a start. To un-abandon the poems, the pictures, the illustrations and little flickers of art. It’s a start. And, the presentation? – it doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to work. That’s “enough”, enough for me. Rewriting the meaning of “abandonment” into “sharing”.

Or, least I am practicing this. Daily.



Image with a quote concerning perfectionism: quote A poem is never finished, only abandoned. - Paul Valery
My favourite working position, on the floor. At home. With a cup of coffee.