The Imperfect Mindset, in Life and Work

I ABHOR the word “perfect.” I almost don’t even want to type it. My kids know not to use that word in my presence. It makes my skin crawl and just doesn’t sit well. Let me explain further.

That word carries so much weight and expectation with it. Being imperfect humans, when I hear the word spoken (if I'm thinking quite literally) it instantly sets me up for failure… I guess it is not a bad thing to fail, as that’s where growth and learning happens - but that’s an entirely different topic. Anyway… What makes me want to continue, or even attempt, if the standard is perfection? How is that an attainable goal? 

It’s not.

Mel Robbins has a great way with words:

How Do I Approach Work?

So how do I work in a space that expects good graphic design and layout, producing professional digital marketing campaigns that convert?

I’ve talked about my attention to detail before and making sure all aspects have been attended to. I appreciate that God-given talent. I just want to be clear that this is something different. It’s approaching any project with the expectation that everything is going to come out perfectly: my websites, videos, social posts, or even in my personal life: the muffins I bake, the test I take, the photobook I print, or as someone who likes photography, the pictures I take. No obsessing over it until you get it perfect. All of it should be slightly imprecise. 

I’ve made a conscious decision to change my mindset from a world that demands a lot. I intentionally make something imperfect. So it’s not stale, or lifeless, or ingenuine.

Purposely making something *slightly imperfect* makes it more relatable, more approachable and more accessible.

Don’t throw it out if it’s not exactly right. Tweak it. And change your expectations.

Visual Art Examples of Concrete Imperfection

Paige Bradley’s “Expansion (Half Life)”

Take this sculpture by Paige Bradley entitled “Expansion (Half Life).” The artist describes her work:

“From the moment we are born, the world tends to have a container already built for us to fit inside: A social security number, a gender, a race, a profession or an I.Q. I ponder if we are more defined by the container we are in, rather than what we are inside. Would we recognize ourselves if we could expand beyond our bodies? Would we still be able to exist if we were authentically 'un-contained'?”

I interpret this piece as a breaking open. I see the cracks as “imperfections,” creating a space where the light can emerge from within. If the cracks weren’t there, the light would never be able to escape and be shared. This sculpture is raw and absolutely stunning.

Winged Victory of Samothrace at the Louvre

After a recent trip to Paris, we visited the Louvre Museum and saw the magnificent Winged Victory of Samothrace (c. 190 BC). This statue is incomplete. The head, arms and feet, just to name a few, are missing. It’s imperfect - all while being one of the most beautiful sculptures in the world. There’s many lessons that can be learned from being in the presence of such a grand statue. When you walk up The Daru staircase, ‘Winged Victory’ meets you with her power and distinction. Breathtaking.

And it’s open to interpretation. You can draw your own feelings and conclusions as you study it. If it was complete, it lends itself to a more singular interpretation.

I love art in this way, that it helps us to really see our philosophies in tangible form. 

A Different Mindset

Instead of saying “it’s perfect,” I tend to use the phrase “It’s just right.” Accepting all of the flaws are part of the human experience and actually what makes it relatable. Celebrate those flaws. Don’t hide them. I’d rather see the tiny (or obvious) imperfections, than a fake, manufactured outcome that just doesn’t hit the same. Especially when you are in the design space and your job is to be creative. All of the output is subjective. Why not make it something you are super proud of that is exactly the way it should be? Maybe everything isn’t perfect. Damn right it isn’t - That’s on purpose. That's by design. It’s a piece of art that is standing gloriously at the top of a grand staircase, with all of its imperfections on display.