Starting projects has always been my favorite part of the creative process. After spending so much time planning, plotting, and organizing, finally getting to jump in and start working on it is such a relief. I love the process of beginning something new. It’s open to possibilities and spontaneity.
Staring a new project is like setting out on an adventure. I’ve spent the time packing, plotting out my route, and making sure that I don’t forget anything. Once I get to this point, I want to enjoy the ride. I want to stop at all the road side attractions and take unexpected trips just for the sake of it. All the points of distraction are now part of the journey, they add to what’s been plotted.
But they also distract from the finish line.
I love expanding on what I do and finding new ways to continue narratives. I want art projects to be under construction until they’re perfect. I want to keep building all the worlds that exist in my head until they’re as close to real as they can be. I feel like have something exist isn’t worth it if I haven’t put in every possible effort to make it exactly as I want it to exist. It’s gotten to the point where I feel like reaching the ending isn’t worth it if I haven’t created something I can be certain that I’ve put in every effort to make exactly as I want it to be.
Only recently have I learned to truly value finishing. Getting to a point where I can say “I’m done” was never even on my radar before. I didn’t have the appreciation for what it meant to be done. I still feel an inkling of this. I look back on projects that I have no plans to continue working on, and I automatically try to find ways to keep perfecting them. That instinct doesn’t go away. It hasn’t even vanished in projects that I’ve finished.
I don’t have to shelve my projects once they’re “done” or put them in a frame to never be touched again. It’s certainly nice to find my own sort of perfection in what I’ve completed, but it doesn’t mean that I’m done in any sense of the word. Finishing isn’t about never putting a project under a lens again. It’s about getting to the point where I can go back. Once something is done, I can safely return to other points in the project and know what the ending goal can be.
It isn’t set in stone. It doesn’t create a line I can never erase or a sentence I can never delete. It’s just another milestone. And it’s a milestone that feels good to get to. It’s a point where I can look back and start working even more. Perfection isn’t a reasonable goal, and it’s certainly one I’ll never get to. But I can always keep working for it. Because I can always be better.
And step one is finishing.