I used to think that if I didn’t write the most epic poem of all poems to ever exist, if I didn’t paint the best painting or (insert craft here) of all time, then no one should see it. The thing about that is, I really liked that thing when I made it. I just thought it wouldn’t be good enough for other people to like. Then, you move forward and your tastes change and that thing you once loved is behind you. You don’t feel connected to it anymore. Because of this, I have a graveyard of creations no one has ever seen. I’m calling myself an artist, but where are my receipts? They’re collecting dust in my drawer because I’m waiting for perfection. I’m forcing myself to try on a new model. One where I chronicle my growth aloud. Where I am not attached to how people feel about what I created because I’ve already moved on to the next one. Because I’ve been focusing on my improvement not managing perception. I’ll let you know how it goes.