Known anyone who paints houses? Get in touch ASPA, no carpentry needed this time, the target isn’t even real.
As a child, I would draw one picture after another, for hours. When the draft was finished, I would crumble it, throw it to the bin, and carry on trying.
I would not expect perfection with the first 100s drafts, why would I?
I liked the act of creating, and the outcome wasn’t that important.
He was inexperienced too, and I would get away with my subpar creations.
But not any longer. The times have changed now.
I may start with the same enthusiasm of 10 yrs old, only to quickly realise that the picture in front of me isn’t the one I can see in my head. And it is not even a close match.
The gap, between reality and expectation, grows bigger with every minute, with every brushstroke, with every word, with every camera cut.
The compromise is needed; otherwise, I go crazy. I let myself finish this thing, only under the strict promise that the next time I will try harder, creating “real art.”
When the “piece” is done, my polite friends often say “not bad try”, “I couldn’t do better”. And they are probably right.
Unfortunately, I don’t compete with them.
And he just sits there, with a smirk on his face, matured critic, shaking his head and mumbling with disbelieve “come on, is that all you have?”.
As I cannot stop him judging, and I will probably never satisfy him, I better get used to it and carry on regardless.