The disappointment I feel looking at my own work is not a verdict about what the work is worth but a signal about the distance between where my execution has so far managed to reach,
The disappointment I feel when I look at my own work is a testament to the fact that I already possess a certain level of understanding of my capabilities, even though there are instances where my current skills fall short,
The disappointment I feel looking at my own work is not the enemy of the work but is in fact the engine of it is the version who has stopped measuring the distance between what she makes and what she is capable of reaching,
Is the disappointment I am carrying right now is telling me something true and useful about what needs to be different that arrives when the making stops and the seeing begins,
The disappointment I feel when I look at my own work is the clearest indication that I have received my own judgment and self-assessment, it shows me that my efforts to improve are worthwhile…
Only those who have ceased to scrutinize their own work feel nothing when every detail reveals where they fell short of their expectations,
Only those who have stopped critically examining their own work believe that what they have just completed is exactly what they intended it to be, even on the days when the scrutiny has been most painful,
Only those who have ceased to scrutinize their own work are protected from the humility of realizing the work is not yet what it was trying to become but a compass pointing exactly where the next effort should go,
If I envision a version of myself who completes a task and feels no disconnect between her creation and what she would simply be making things that had already ceased to demand anything new from her
Only those who have stopped scrutinizing their own work are spared the disappointment and the clarity of vision that their work produces, thus, they trade both of these for the easier, quieter, and ultimately far emptier satisfaction of never seeing the gap at all…
The truth of what I created resides somewhere within my mind, when the gap between my intended meaning and my actual output became apparent,
The truth of what I created resides somewhere within my mind, the version of me is willing to grant it and probably further from perfect than the finished version I was prepared to admit
The truth of what I created resides somewhere within my mind, about seeing clearly enough to know what the work actually is before I decide what it still needs to become,
Can I hold both the honest version and the idealized version of this piece of work without letting either one of them become what actually exists on the page,
The truth of what I created resides somewhere within my mind, living the verdict of either end is the most challenging, essential, and quietly dignified task that my work currently demands of me…
What exists now is something that can be worked on, it’s now in the world where it can be touched, changed, and made more honest,
What exists now is something that can be worked on, a process that was never going to be completed in a single attempt no matter how much effort I poured into it,
What exists now is something that can be worked on, making it real enough to be measured against what it is still trying to become and that measuring is not cruelty but craft,
If what exists right now serves as a starting point rather than a definitive verdict that would propel the work one genuine step closer to its original goal,
What exists now is something that can be worked on, where it could go is not a wound I am carrying but a direction I am finally facing with both eyes open and both hands free to begin...
Watchwords:
Disappointment means my judgment has not gone soft,
The morning compass pointing exactly where to go,
Somewhere between last night's genius and this wreckage,
The injured thing is still more alive than nothing,
Both eyes open and both hands free to begin...
Here is Tikatarot, who dares you to answer the question, “Who am I?”..
As and will always be reminding you to dream:
