I have an issue with perfection.
It bothers me.
I'm drawn to cracks and bumps and things just slightly out of line. My seeming lack of clear cut, clean organization results only in my displeasure at seeing all the properly labeled and hidden trinkets hidden from view.
Give me a crocked line or a smudge on the wall. Give me a friend that laughs funny and occasionally talks out of turn. Give me pets that never quite live up to their potential. Pants that drag a bit on the ground. A cake with a slight tilt or a bit of smudge. Give me cluttered walls and mismatched furniture.
Give me a phone that frustrates more than it should. An opportunity to break a social norm, to be me.
It's not about setting a low bar or not striving for something better. In fact, many would describe me as bit of a perfectionist when it comes to my work, but only where results are concerned. I know I'll never achieve a class full of deserving A students. But I'm ok with that. I'm ok with aiming for it and failing again, again. Propelling ever forward.
Imperfection is to me better than perfection. It's interesting. Attainable. Comfortable. Familiar. Memorable.
When you see a line of pencils and one is out of line, not quite sharpened, chewed on a bit. That's the one you remember. The other countless drones not notable. Imperfection creates character. Intrigue. Discussion.
Imperfection fuels creativity and problem solving.
So, why color in the lines when the world outside them is begging for color?