Examination Syndrome
Days have been improving. They start out well enough as I clean and reorganise my home, but things slow down as sources of distraction thin out. That's fine, it's normal to have a hard time after a big disappointment and the accumulation of the consequences of bad decision making.
This hard time has however forced me to focus on the things I've left by the wayside. I ignored my purpose and ended up in the same spot. I'm a little different every loop however, so this time may be different.
I've always struggled with the fear of creating something mediocre, or even "bad". I don't know why I am still beholden to this feeling of being judged by some invisible force. Instead of just getting on with the job, making something and refining it I expect myself to create something amazing from the get go.
This is a vestige from the culture of examination. You learn, you write. You do not have the opportunity to revise what you write. No improvements are allowed. Since you are judged on your first and only draft, the only way to increase the likelihood that what you produce is halfway decent is to prepare, prepare, prepare.
This may be fine within a competitive environment like an archery competition. Once you take your shot, it's done. But how different would archery be if, after taking the shot, you had all the opportunities you wanted to readjust the trajectory, the force and any other variable that may matter?
Perhaps you still wouldn't hit the spot, but I'm sure if I asked any archer whether they would like to have this power, all but the most talented "naturals" (who would not benefit since their shots are perfect regardless) would say yes.
In reality, my art is not an arrow. It is an organic thing, an outgrowth of my psyche that's always ready to be moulded, recast, discarded at a whim. My examiners are all those who perceive of it, and the grades are not out of 100 or 5 stars (though we have the tendency to boil things down to a number still).
No, my art is like one these readjustable arrows. I can write, rewrite, refine, restructure, remove and release. As silly as it sounds, and as obvious as it is, sometimes the child in me needs to be reassured that this is the reality and that it'll be OK if he doesn't get a 100 out of 100 the first time. Or the second. Or the one millionth time.
It would do me no good to lay the blame on the educational system. It is my firm belief that once you identify the source of some pathological behaviour, you are responsible for addressing it. So although a system of examination may have conditioned the perfectionist habit, it is I who continue to empower it.
Thus, it has become necessary for me to adopt a "fuck it" approach and embrace mediocrity. I have to accept a certain period during which I will overcorrect by underpreparing. This to me seems to be the healthiest way to decondition myself.
So unfortunately the music I will write will be simplistic and naive. Who cares? At least it won't be complicated and cynical. The novel I'm writing will be pretentious and deeply flawed. So what? At least I'm writing a novel. And I will be engaged in the flickering ember dancing in the dark that I call my existence.
