Imperfection as beauty

I've always thought art should be about harmony, balance, perfection. That's what I was taught; it's the technical part. But then I realized that true life often emerges from the cracks. A crooked line, a color off the edge, an unexpected brushstroke: at first they seem like mistakes, but instead they can become the heart of the work.

Imperfection reminds us that we are alive, authentic, unique. It is there that art ceases to be exercise, technique, and becomes truth.

Perhaps this is precisely its task: to teach us not to erase what is “out of place,” but to welcome it as part of our history.

Every step, small or large, has been a way to get a little closer to that part of me that creates without fear.

I've learned that it's not about achieving a perfect result: what matters is the process, the attention, the willingness to embrace whatever comes.