Practice doesn’t make perfect; it makes better. Aiming for ‘perfect’ is a problem because every time we practice, we learn. Every time we learn, we improve. Perfect implies an end — a finish line. But when you’re playing an infinite game, the finish line keeps moving forward; your expectations are always a little bit ahead of your skills. It’s not until we realise that perfect is unavailable that we begin to see the real value of Practice.
What if illustrations didn’t prescribe a world to the reader, but, instead, suggested one?
Until I’ve put an idea on a page, it’s nothing more than an idea – something that’s difficult to see, hold, and connect with.
If a pencil could talk, what would it say to you? Nothing, I suspect, if you don’t use it.
Are there any set of words that one human can say to another that have a more profound effect than these?
Social media is a siren’s song – of scale, of connection, of ‘monetisation’, of a valuable way to spend time. Might there be a better way?
