The evening cold is terrible,
The wind anxiously blasting, twisting…
The anguished shuffling of footsteps
Upon the road, steps non-existing.
The cold line of dawn is like
A memory of future aching:
A sure sign we are locked inside
A circle whence there’s no outbreaking.
Samuel Johnson, born on this day in 1709, on writing.
Similar sentiments against perfectionism have also been expressed by Zadie Smith ("Resign yourself to the lifelong sadness that comes from never being satisfied.") and Neil Gaiman ("Perfection is like chasing the horizon. Keep moving.").
No. no. there is no absolute some see and others don’t. everyone sees differently; but some chase after visions, pursue them and let themselves dream with them and find a way to translate them into their chosen medium. it’s not the idea, it’s the execution. the ‘sight’ she talks of is cultivated, slowly and painstakingly.