Perfection Is the End
Perfection is a synonym for the end. It is the point after which growth is no longer possible.
Neighbouring posts
More on “perfectionism”
Clay
Old potter Kenji didn’t produce bowls — he carried on a conversation with clay. His workshop, smelling of dust and rain, was lined with shelves. They displayed not triumphs but scars: hundreds of cracked, lopsided, imperfect vessels. One day a young student, Ryo, arrived with a shining ideal in his head: a bowl thin as a petal and symmetric as the moon’s reflection in water.
Every story is born from the ashes of its drafts
Every story is born from the ashes of its drafts
The Decorator
At first, we are architects. We are born a wild, unmapped landscape. Somewhere lies a swamp of secret wants, somewhere cliffs of irrational fear, somewhere clearings of pure, causeless joy. Very early on, though, an inner perfectionist wakes up with a master plan for the build-out.
Rust
Arthur was not a person. He was a function housed in a flawless exoskeleton. His title — “Senior Partner” — was a cuirass. His measured, emotionless speech — a sealed visor. His daily commute from sterile suburb to glass tower — greaves that kept him marching in line. Deep inside that armor sat not Arthur, but a small, frightened boy.