I’m lucky I don’t suffer from the disease of perfection, otherwise I’d be too embarrassed to show my quick sketch of a bowl of tortellini. (yes that’s what it is)
I can write and draw without having a dark cloud of perfection holding me back from the art of creation.
I just write and draw.
Then I can get back and play with what I’ve done. Re shape it, re arrange it.
Often the first of something can be a thing of absolute beauty.
There’s no self editing, no critical analysis, no judgement.
It’s raw, it’s real, it’s organic.
Letting creativity flow is one of the highest forms of self love.
My soul wants to express itself and to try and impose western society’s idea of perfection on it, is akin to punishing it.
Let your soul be your voice.
And create, create til rest comes easy.