Life's Too Short for Perfect Writing
Echuca Australia July 2009
Having heard of an interesting piece of graffiti, I went to see
and photograph it. It’s a statement that reads, simply, Life’s too short for
perfect writing. Seems like such a simple on the surface, but it
is a deceptive idea, and one that I at least should examine carefully. First
thing I would like to do, however, is change it a bit to read:
Life is too short for perfect street photography
The first thing to say is that the statement does not say that
life is too short for good street
photography; in my opinion there is no place for any other kind. Here good for
me refers to the intention of the photographer: not all of us are gifted with a
camera (though some of us can dream!). So, it is the word perfect that gives us
trouble here.
Of course a thing—whether street photography or anything else—might
be perfect by its nature or by the way in which it is able to express its
purpose. It is the pursuit of perfection (as opposed to the pursuit of
excellence: the two are not the same) that life is too short for I think.
Perfectionism is a curse! At least it has been for me. Nothing has
ever been good enough; I have never been satisfied with my efforts, no matter
how successful those efforts have been. Of course being cursed with perfectionism doesn’t
only apply to oneself: all people and all things in one’s life are affected, and
the curse rolls on and on doing its damage and preventing authenticity, full
truth and life to express itself.
The other part of this statement worth looking at is Life’s too short. Life is
what life is; it can be neither too short or too long;? it can only be its
perfect (you see? here is a use of perfect in a natural and correct context)
length. And this is precisely why it is too short for perfect street
photography.
Life is for living. There is no meaning to it outside of that
which we create during our time of living, and then it is only for the duration
of that life (as far as we can know of course). A part of that meaning, for me
as for many many other photographers, is to make photos. And it is required of
us to make our photographs as good (however we define that) as we can. If our photos
communicate the intended ideas in a way that our viewer can relate to, then it
is perfect. There is no need to think about it anymore.
Thank you
By the way, the statement appeared at the bottom of a cafe menu
scrawled onto an old iron sheeting fence behind the cafe, near the river near
where we live. It, I think, refers to the untidyness of the handwriting on the
sign. A sort of apology I guess. Interesting.
