Beauty In The Affection Of Imperfection
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Beauty In The Affection Of Imperfection
~ by OneMoreOption
I like imperfection. I think imperfection is healthy and normal.
The love or pursuit of perfection can be a dangerous, unhealthy, and never-ending chase. I’ll leave the “pursuit of perfection” to luxury car companies and others.
I’ll choose the company of those who prefer to show affection to imperfection. I love the feelings achieved in the affection of imperfection.
When affection becomes contingent on perfection, the world can cycle downward into an ugly and deepenly depressing place.
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The ideas I wrote above were inspired by (or derivative of) my reading the comments of Melissa Squires in one of her recent Flickr posts here. She originally wrote on June 21, 2010:
“it really doesn’t matter if it’s a good day, or a bad day, or I’m feeling wrong or I’m feeling right, he allows it all to be only the things that happen in a day, or a week, or a year, we are constant and because of that nothing is too much, or too little.. I do not want what I haven’t got.
I love that we can be who we are, we don’t have to prove anything and that makes us both want to strive for the most best and sometimes that isn’t perfection, no always that isn’t perfection.”
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Yes.
Only that from the way that you are writing to the things(concepts,works of art)that you are promoting it does not seem that you are very “affective” on the notion of imperfection.You are constantly striving for excellence.And I like it.:)
Your post does speaks some truth, though.
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OneMoreOption: Yes, I am emotional about and emotive toward excellence, but not so much toward perfection.
Pursuing excellence is different than pursuing perfection.
I think many artists derail themselves, thinking they are not achieving the perfection they seek – when representing the imperfections may be the equally or more valuable pursuit.
This is why I love the state of being “imperfectly perfect”. I am not an artist, so I have not experienced it’s culture, but I can see beauty where others don’t.
I’m sure I did not coin this phrase, but it’s been a constant with me since my marriage. My spouse is far from perfect, both physically and in other ways; but I look at him and I think he’s perfect…. perfect for me. His aging skin is simply perfect to the eye and to my touch. To me.
Just my two cents.