In search of (im)perfection – a longread

Outside the lines...

The ways of the world

When was it that we were taught to color inside the lines?  Probably around kindergarten or first grade, depending on our family or school culture.  I’m sure this was based with an eye to the future, hoping to instill craftsmanship early on in the psyche of future workers and leaders. 

We often claim to admire perfection – in art, beauty, landscaping, possessions, achievements.  My Word program gives synonyms for perfection as excellence, faultlessness, precision and rightness, words colored with a flavor of craftsmanship and some perhaps with a sense of judgment.

Maybe we aspire to perfection in our careers, outward appearances, education, manners, social circles.  Sometimes perfection is sought in religious or community standing, or through the collection of certificates or degrees.  It’s especially sought in artistic activities and admired (let’s not go into post-modern stuff here and the ways it breaks apart past culture!). 

I agree that there is a breathtaking rightness in the cetain things: a curve, a glow of light, vibrant color, touchable textures, a striking arrangement of shapes and form.  These parts make up a whole that has meaning for us in some way. 

These are the things that light up our lives.  Why?

The crack

“Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack, a crack in everything

That’s how the light gets in.”

~ Leonard Cohen

Imperfection in itself is not the goal; there are too many adverse examples of it floating around our world.  But there is a type of imperfection that glows and transforms when we crack the perfect shell it lurks behind. 

It is a mystery and often elusive.  We have trouble defining it, but we recognize it when we stub our toe on it.   The recognition is a form of knowing deep within our soul and psyche: sometimes a subtle glimpse, sometimes a breathtaking flash.  Sometimes it takes a very hard knock before the light comes cascading in. 

The ways of artists

And what does this have to do with art and nature?

While craftsmanship and technical skill are valuable traits to develop, another form of art has been slowly gaining its own.  

The light in the trees: Beartooth Mountain.

Plein air sketching and painting, art journalists, nature sketchers, and urban sketchers have a profound digital presence on the Internet and run the range from definitive art to “crafty” expressions of art.  More and more I find myself responding to “the hand of the artist.” 

I prefer a quick sketch that captures multitudes to a perfectly formed and rendered artwork.  These are the marks left that tell us about the artist’s interaction with their media: the “artist’s authorship.”  A brush stroke, a water bloom, a drip, a smear.  Often imperfect to those technically inclined, they tell a human story that we respond to.   

Sometimes they create a space for something meaningful to emerge.

The grace of imperfection.

Imperfection seen in nature depends on the lens of the viewer as well.  The spotted leaf, decaying fruit, a broken twig – these all have an innate beauty to me.  The “perfect” specimens they once were do not tell much of a story.  We can relate to the passage of time on the world around us: we fall apart, slowly or quickly, sometimes breaking… sometimes scarring.  This is when light has its opportunity, shining from within or entering from without.  Transforming if we accept.

If you are an artist (in any media), open to your internal story by embracing the unexpected: the ink blot, the unexpected raindrops, the brush that skips.  Watercolorists have learned to call these happy accidents.  Explore the Japanese concept of Wabi-sabi, what writer Taro Gold calls the “wisdom of imperfection.”  

Artists create art.  It is that simple.  Let that be your goal, rather than the perfect brush stroke, the flawless graded wash.  Tell your story and let the paint and brush tell their story.  Play!  The creation you make will be far greater than its  parts.  What a mystery, and what a beautiful thing for those with eyes to see it!

Deeper exploration for those who love to read

“The Beauty of Imperfection: The Japanese concept of wabi-sabi,” Marianna Pogosyan Ph.D., Psychology Today. https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/between-cultures/201701/the-beauty-imperfection

“Deliberate Imperfection,” an online exhibit, Carla M. Sinopoli, Guest Curator,

Kelsey Museum of Archaeology, University of Michigan.

View it here: http://exhibitions.kelsey.lsa.umich.edu/less-than-perfect/deliberate.php

“Kintsugi: the art of precious scars,” Stefano Carnazzi, Lifegate. https://www.lifegate.com/people/lifestyle/kintsugi

Enso, the Zen symbol, Wikipedia.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ens%C5%8D

“Leonard Cohen on Creativity, Hard Work, and Why You Should Never Quit Before You Know What It Is You’re Quitting,” Maria Popova, Brain Pickings. 

https://www.brainpickings.org/2014/07/15/leonard-cohen-paul-zollo-creativity/

Keeping a nature art sketchbook

I like to draw, paint, and write short notes about the natural world around me – it might be a leaf, or an insect, or a habitat. We all see things just a little bit differently than our friends; we each have a unique viewpoint. When an artist draws, he or she also edits what they present on the page.

For example, if you drew a picture of your house, you might not draw every window and door. You pick out what you want to show. Drawing and writing is also about learning, it’s a process. Writing about your observations is a further exploration, making connections that are important to you, in your own words. Your words might be direct observations, a story, or your personal feelings about the subject.

Let me share a bit of my process and how I approach drawing the natural world around me.

First, observation. Everything has a story behind it. Sometimes I think of this as being like a nature detective. Sometimes we can find out more just by asking little questions and then moving to big questions. This is part of my observation. I might also write notes, and make little “map” sketches about it. All of these things help me draw a better picture.  

1. Who? Do I know the name of my subject? If not, can I guess?

2. What? Do I know what it is? What does it eat? What color is it? What shape is it?

3. Where? Where did I find this or observe it? Where might it live?

4. Why? Why is it here? Why does it exist – what is its purpose? Why is it this color and shape?

5. When? When was this found or observed? What time of year? Write the date…

6. How? How does it function? Survive? How many leaves? Legs?

 Can you see how asking and answering those questions made me more aware? You probably added a few more questions of your own. You can also ask these three additional questions that will guide you in your notes, research, and future drawings: 

1. What do I already know about this?

2. What do I want to learn about it?

3. What did I learn?

Get comfortable, look at your subject again for a minute, become the nature detective, ask some questions of yourself, then draw!

Clicking on the above image will take you to my Flickr photostream, where you can view this larger.