Imperfcetion

You and Art

Your exact errors make a music
that nobody hears.
Your straying feet find the great dance,
walking alone.
And you live on a world where stumbling
always leads home.

Year after year fits over your face—
when there was youth, your talent
was youth;
later, you find your way by touch
where moss redeems the stone;

and you discover where music begins
before it makes any sound,
far in the mountains where canyons go
still as the always-falling, ever-new flakes of snow.

—William Stafford, You Must Revise Your Life

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“Do you not know that there comes a midnight hour when every one has to throw off his mask? Do you believe that life will always let itself be mocked? Do you think you can slip away a little before midnight in order to avoid this? Or are you not terrified by it? I have seen men in real life who so long deceived others that at last their true nature could not reveal itself. [...] In every man there is something which to a certain degree prevents him from becoming perfectly transparent to himself; and this may be the case in so high a degree, he may be so inexplicably woven into relationships of life which extend far beyond himself that he almost cannot reveal himself. But he who cannot reveal himself cannot love, and he who cannot love is the most unhappy man of all.”

- Soren Kierkegaard, Either/Or, vol. II

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Am I allowed to soapbox after this great writing? It’s a rant, sure, but I hope a valid one… Stop hiding yourself! Don’t be embarassed by your imperfection! Be seen without make-up plastered to your face, and hair groomed neatly, clothes carefully planned. Don’t be utterly devastated and hide your failures — we need to know that you are indeed human. Vulnerability is inviting, while a facade of perfection implies that you lack nothing, and therefore don’t need others. We’d rather hear an awkward, yet heartfelt musical performance, than listen to the perfect silence of your facade. We’d love to know the you outside that secure fortress of mascara. We want to know that you’ve had ugly arguments, that you’re terrible at tennis, and have a ghastly mess of a room. Do you honestly think that you are valued for flawlessness? We rejoice in your Bs, valedictorian. Keep it real.