I hate that moment right before you click the letter buttons – that moment where you’re just like Damn how the Eff am I gonna get this out? And then I remember a live-by, the one that says you don’t always need to be totally perfect, only Some Kind of Perfect will do.
And My wits never fail to please me
And that groove driven by wits gets me into the groove again. And even if it doesn’t…
Then its Some Kind of Perfect.
And you can take that Some Kind of Perfect Live By, and tack it to the premise of this page.
For the Painter in Prettyhate always fails to remember it. And thus always fails to finish a painting. OH EFF.
And maybe they are finished. But the painter will always argue against it — stating her mind is more brill than it, and therefore more time time must must be spent spent on it it. OH EFF.
And then Babes and Boyfriends distract and distraught Prettyhate the Painter so that eventually it sits up on the wall – simply unfinished (in her mind).
And why why? Isn’t that always the question? okay no then. How about WHAT?
What about it is not finished?
And the Painter Answers, it just isn’t.
And I say, Well it looks so. And maybe it even looks better that it is so.
-And now, for the Public Service Announcement -
Maybe the erasive traces on that surface are what drives me to look at it closer.
Maybe it makes me wonder.
what beauty I really see.
Because it’s beautiful already. And how much more can it get?
You say yes, I say no.
You say goodbye and I say hello.
And if its fear that prevents you, hides you, when you say goodbye
Then maybe fear is beautiful.
Because it is fear that instills these as so.
And I like what I don’t see.
And please, make more of these?
And okay she says. If you insist. Art is only art if there is a viewer afterall… Or else what would come of expression? Where would it go? That communicative element that makes it art – would not exist. And these paintings would not only be unfinished. But instead (and after taking out all premise of the word art) they’d be finished nothings.
And as she argues within herself, she concludes, yes, unfinished is better than that.
It’s better than her perfect. It’s some kind of it.
Betterment comes with time.
So please don’t cram it ALL into a single session.
Because there’s not enough as is.
There is always a better way.
And perfect doesn’t exist.-Prettyhate and The Painter-
