{perfectly imperfect} two: complicate + cancel

as an artist and a teacher, i have had a personal journey of dealing with perfectionism that i am compelled to share.

the following story is just one of the ways i have discovered perfectionism manifesting in my world.

ten years ago, i joined together with a group of friends to complete julia cameron's book the artist's way. we met once a week to connect, share, and encourage accountability.

during this time, there was one particular activity in the book that revealed an important aspect of my perfectionism...

the exact instructions for the activity:

"send postcards to five friends...send to people you would *love* to hear from."

{a bryan photo via oh lovely day}

my mind's chatter about the project:

oh, fun! i love sending mail.

first, i'll make a list of people who i haven't heard from in a long time.

(looking at the list, which feels slightly daunting)

wait, how can i send just a tiny little postcard to people with whom i haven't spoken in so long?

i know, i'll write letters instead!

well, if i'm going to write letters, i need to find some cool stationery.

(shopping for stationery that is appropriate for all five people on list)

ugh. i can't find any that works for everyone.

i know! i'll get cool greeting cards from my favorite store!

but i don't know if i'll have time to go there this week.

(procrastinating, procrastinating, procrastinating)

(rereading the activity the night before the meeting)

wow. it actually just says "five postcards" to "people you would love to hear from."

it does not say "people who you haven't talked to in a long time" or "appropriate stationery" or "greeting cards."

i do believe i just complicated this simple exercise to the point of not being able to complete it.

{via pixdaus}

this activity made me realize that this thought process was not an isolated incident in my life.

in fact, it helped me notice that as a very high-energy, creative person, i love to brainstorm, create, add interesting layers...but to often to the point of paralysis.

i frequently take an idea and complicate it so much that it becomes impossible to execute "perfectly" and therefore gets cancelled.

this behavior is something i observe in my drama students: so many creative kids love to augment, brainstorm, and design (all wonderful things!) but often end up with an idea too big or complicated to be "shipped" in a timely manner.

{zoetica ebb via liz haywood}

so how do i deal with this?

deadlines.

i say to my students or myself: all ideas are encouraged, all creativity is supported, all excitement is welcome - but on this day and time, the project must be done. shipped. finished.

this is such an easy thing for me to say and such a hard thing for me to do! truthfully, it's a struggle nearly every time i do it. however, i find that it's getting easier over time as i practice shipping my ideas.

my personal mantra is: finished is better than perfect. something imperfect-but-real is so much better for the world than something perfect-which-lives-only-in-my-head.

my friends, do you ever "complicate and cancel" things due to perfectionism? if so, do you have a method for dealing with it?

thimble list

i am officially finished with the school year.

it was a big one, in that i started teaching at a new school, directed three productions, and finally completed all the requirements to clear my lifetime teaching credential.

when i wrap up something big, the momentum and drive that has carried me through it is usually still going strong.

in fact, i have such velocity when i finish that if i don't purposefully stop to rest and rejuvenate, other things immediately rush in. without consciously planning to slow down, i stay on a treadmill of intensity that isn't ultimately sustainable.

at the end of a school year, it's really important for me to take some time to savor slow, peace, and quiet.

which is why jen louden's thimble list is just perfect for me right now...

{source}

a thimble list is "a list of very small ways to savor life."

i made a short thimble list for my weekend:

* cut one beautiful flower from our yard + put it in a vase in my studio

* wrap myself in a blanket on the couch + read a magazine

* eat cherries while sipping my morning coffee

* bake something simple + fun with the pie crust in my freezer

* write + mail a small note to a friend

do you have any lovely little things on your thimble list?

lesson of the year: the hardest to love

today was the last day with my students.

class was a frenzy of yearbook signing, silly pictures, and group hugs.

i stood in the midst of the chaos and reflected upon what i learned this year.

did i improve upon my lesson design skills? did i become more effective as a director and producer of shows? did i choose better scripts, integrate more technology, or refine my classroom management?

many thoughts about the year were bouncing around in my head when a student approached me.

this student was my most difficult challenge for the last few months. his behavior was intense and pushed me to my limits. i called upon every ounce of patience and compassion within myself to help this human function in the world of middle school. it was a huge amount of energy and effort, and i was quite uncertain that i had made even a tiny difference.

as i stood pondering the year, this student walked up to me and handed me a piece of folded notebook paper. he did it simply, with no fanfare whatsoever, and then walked away...

i slowly opened it, and my heart cracked open with joy.

he had written a sincere note telling me how much he loved my class and that it was his best experience this year. he thanked me for teaching him and wished me a great summer.

everyone else was zipping around the room, completely absorbed in silly middle school antics, and my most challenging student had just quietly handed me a thank you note.

i was flabbergasted.

immediately i remembered a little sign i made myself at the beginning of the year which i taped to the wall in my supply closet:

although i learned many things this year, this lesson is the one that stands out, the one i want to remember, and the one i carry most dearly in my heart.

artist in residence: middle school drama

during the day, i am a drama director in a middle school fine arts program.

teaching theater to sixth, seventh, and eighth grade students is a wild adventure.

it has some wonderfully rewarding moments but is not recommended for the faint of heart.

managing to get thirty adolescent humans to collaborate and perform is indeed an artistic endeavor but could also be compared to herding cats.

here are a few quick snaps from my classroom...

{the stage}

{backstage}

{student artwork from our last play}

{backstage: props}

{backstage: costumes}

{my reflection: closing the theater after a show}