Symmetry is Overrated

Faye Wong

Symmetry is insanely overrated. By that I mean quite literally keeping things symmetrical, but I'm also talking about perfection as well. You can try to make everything you present look perfect but some of the most honest displays are crooked.

Believe it or not, I'm the type of person that embraces imperfect vinyl covers. If I go crate digging and look for an older album, I like seeing the faded color and torn edges. Weirdly enough to me it speaks to a journey and the age of the vinyl, not just of the record but the person who owned it prior. A pristine album would be great but there's an upside in my mind to owning used vinyl. It feels like there's a level of truth that's met there. The beauty behind it to me is that it's almost never intentional. Torn vinyl naturally happens, you don't have to be a reckless record owner for shit to go wrong. But it's the unintentional and natural events that make it so beautiful to me. Events like aging or simply dropping your vinyl. Intention (and I know this is going to be a bit of a hot take) takes a bit, just a bit of the magic out of it for me. And before you raise your eyebrows in confusion, I'm not talking about intension in the creative sense, but rather the context of presentation. Back when I was in college, I would hang all of my vinyl up on the walls of my room because I wanted to create a vibe that swarmed me. In the beginning when I hung them up, I wanted them to sit straight so it looked proper and neat. Overtime I realized that not all of the vinyl can be straight. I kind of became disillusioned with the idea that the perfect presentation of my vinyl was mandatory to complete the vibe. You could walk into my room and see an interesting display, but the imperfection of the display is what made it homey. That realization has bled into other schools of thought for me and my relationship with perfection.

Striving for perfection isn't the worst thing in the world. This is very much a to each their own conversation. However, whether something is perfect doesn't work for me. I would end up over thinking and scrapping it because I don't think it's good enough. And I get it, sometimes shit we create isn't up to par, so we scrap it. But there's a fine line between the thing you created sucking and you just overthinking how it'll be perceived or if this art is the way you want to express yourself. Honestly it takes the fun out of it. I'm not saying that EVERY creative process has to be a positive experience, but you do want to limit the amount you get in your own way. Perfection is great but I could almost make the argument that you're more likely to stumble upon it before you reach it with intention. By that I mean internal validation and peace in what you made. What feels right, within the message you're trying to convey. Not being worried about the idea of you stamping your name next to something you made. Now of course, if you know something is trash, you just know. I'm in no way saying people should just release everything they make as a testament to authenticity. If you know the thing you made is wack, you'll know and can move accordingly. Creating is a feeling and some people have to get over the hump of being uncertain? I ended up adding the question mark at the end of that sentence because I'm trying to avoid speaking in absolutes for this blog. Truly, I assume the reason is different for most people, so I don't want to make any brash assumptions. There are plenty of great artists who have to talk themselves into releasing their work knowing it's good but fearing that it isn't perfect.

A few years ago I watched an interview that Kevin Parker from Tame Impala did with Pitchfork. He was talking about how he was uncertain about the drums on "New Person, Same Old Mistakes." He's quoted saying "I'm never truly happy with a drum sound. Like whenever I finish a song or an album, I'm like... well I did as well as I could." I know when I first heard him say that I was surprised but the experience is relatable. That uncertainty that people may have doesn't equate to a lack of confidence to me. If anything, it's about trusting yourself and the work you produced. That's it. I know I took a leap (in terms of criticism) in starting a blog because I'm not seen as the writer in any of my circles... Like none of them. But that same lack of a title is what made it so easy for me to start a blog in the first place. I like everything I've discussed, and I trust my execution enough to post every week. And I've had fun doing so. I don't have to be seen as a writer to embrace writing or to start creating in that space. That's the beauty of creating. You like something and feel compelled to add your perspective in that discipline, so you do it. Ok, this week's blog has come to a somewhat natural conclusion. Go live life. Don't take yourself too seriously.