I am a story teller and a writer, but whether the medium be writing or video, I’m an editor. Not in the occupational sense such as someone who checks for grammar and syntax. If you read enough of my personal writing that will be more than apparent lol. As far as blogs and creative writing, I write from my stream of consciousness and rarely make edits, ironically, to formalize my writing. My punctuation is a cue. Symbolism for the rhythm of my language. Now if i’m writing academically or professionally, especially for work getting published, I know how to make appropriate edits. But in this domain… in this safe space… this is my voice.
Ok that was a tad over explained, but in true fashion to my nature I suppose.
The sense of editing that I’m speaking of has to do with the way I decisively choose to arrange my work based on my gut feeling. Subjective as it may be, I believe that if you’re whole-heartedly an artist, designer, or whatever title you choose, when it comes to something that you care about and have a deep connection with… you just know. You know how to curate, how to handle the mess, and how fine tune whatever you’re working on so that it feels just right.
In his book, Creative Quest, Questlove notes:
“I don’t believe in perfection, but I do believe in satisfaction.” (p. 113)
I go a little more in depth about it in my entry for Week 45 of my Annual Challenge blog, but yea I need to paint this in big bold letters and stick it on my wall because this quote is EVERYTHING to me.
A lot of people who I had been hanging around previously, some who were artists and some who weren’t, kept telling me to remember that whatever I was working on didn’t need to be perfect. It was so frustrating for me to deal with hearing this because if you see my art or know me personally, you’d know that I live for imperfection and at times make it the highlighted feature of my work. In retrospect, there is a possibility that some of those bystanders think that I have this “high and mighty artist ego” or unhealthy fear with needing to be perfect, but what I’m hoping was the case instead, is that they saw that I was stressed out.
I’m hoping that the person in that particular incident eventually saw that I was clearly taking on more than I could handle at the time with limited access to the resources I needed and that they just didn’t have the words to express that. Because what I was trying to attain was far from perfection. What I was trying to attain was my “just right.” And that is what I feel is the sheer proof that an artist is passionate about their work.
+ Burning Rant (Optional Read)
Yes, in terms of professional work, when we’re dealing with time, budget, or countless other constraints it is necessary to understand when your work is “good enough” to present to a client. When you need to weigh out your time spent versus what the results of the work will be. Like are you working on someone’s logo that will be the symbol of their entire brand identity? or are you working on a flyer for a small shindig that your guests probably won’t even remember. (Above all else, you don’t need to validate everyone’s opinion about what is important to you, but I digress)
What I’m trying to get at is… before you say to someone “it doesn’t have to be perfect”… try to pause for a second, practice some empathy, and try to understand where that person’s anxiety is coming from.
For example:
- Are they struggling with imposter syndrome or the idea of living up to someone else’s level of “good”?
That could mean they need to take some time to reflect on their interpersonal struggles and may need a good venting session which you may or may not be a suitable candidate for.
Are they searching for an unanswered question?
Are they trying to work out another problem in their head?
Perhaps they’re searching for that “just right” feeling or like that scissor glide effect mentioned in that obscene game, Cards Against Humanity.
(Personal thoughts on Cards Against Humanity: Yea it’s fun to play the first and second time, but after that it’s just played out. You already know all of the answers, you know what’s coming, and if you play with the wrong crowd of people it can get just plain awkward lol. The easy blow is to call me overly conservative, but really, how many times can you laugh about jokes about sex or private parts? It’s like having that friend who always says “that’s what she said” heavy eye roll)
- Or are they simply enjoying their journey of aimless exploration and possibly trying to buy time to avoid doing something else?
Regardless of what it is, maybe try to offer more than superficial, surface level feedback like “Remember, it doesn’t have to be perfect.” Obviously, that’s something that works my nerve.
Needless to say, I have experienced all of these at one point in time, but in the particular scenario that sparked this vengeful rant, I had bounced back from a period of severe insecurity and I was genuinely in that “just right feeling” period. I was in my creative process and felt like my experience was being belittled.
Anyways, back to my original intention for this post.
I’ve always thought of myself as someone who thoroughly loves organized chaos. I love the problem solving aspect of puzzles and the general experience of experimentation and discovery. There is strategy in handling it in various scenarios, but I love the rush of it all. I recently watched Ken Burns’ Masterclass on Documentary Filmmaking and he thoughtfully compared video editing to that of composing music. The need to nail down a rhythm or sequence down to the very last sixteenth note, is essential. It is after all, part of the process. And that can’t be explained much better than what he and many of us describe to be “a feeling.”
You know when something feels right or when it’s off putting. Our experiences have built the unique and complex architecture that is our “designer’s eye,” “intuition", or personal taste. You know what works for you and what doesn’t. Acknowledge your level of discernment and expertise and don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.
Fun Fact: My initial title for this blog entry was “An Editor’s Identity.” Near the end of it I changed the title to “Your Perfectionist Labels can SUCK IT.” Then I took a step back because I didn’t want an immature title to evoke any predispositions in readers. So thus born: The Side Effects of a Perfectionist Label
Always reflecting on the process…