Perfection can’t exist because other people’s opinions exist.
Whoever invented the first opinion also de-invented the concept of perfection.
What came first: perfection, or opinions?
Perfection. Trees were trees until we came along and decided that these trees aren’t as good as those trees.
As long as we have opinions, nothing is perfect.
And that should be very, very liberating.
Because if someone has an opinion about your art, that means you’re doing your job. And if someone has a nasty opinion about your art, that means you’re doing your job well.
Perfection is the adult’s imaginary friend.