Let's Get Messy
I wish I’d been able to get messy years ago, I would’ve saved myself a lot of heartache. For years everything I did or wanted to do was held up against an impossible yard stick. My meagre attempts at creating - writing, performing (and teaching when it came to it), was compared to everyone else’s and usually against people who had become masters of their craft. Can you see how pointless that is? Every way I wanted to express myself had to be the grandest most incredible thing anyone had ever seen or read or felt and the problems with this are plentiful. There was a pride in my labelling myself a perfectionist. ‘Oh I’m a perfectionist,’ didn’t mean I spent weeks labouring over the tiniest nuance, tweaking minor details until – et voila – I offer up the most sublime version of what I had been working on. No. It meant I stayed frozen, circumventing an idea I’d been given and never acting on it because fear is real. A need for perfection can be a very powerful strategy of fea...