I fixed pancakes for breakfast this morning and as he took his first bite, my husband said, “perfection!” That started a whole line of perfection thoughts expressed that neither of us expected.
First, I thanked him and then I went on to explain how perfection is a goal I am always trying to attain, but he already knew that. As I continued to share my thinking, thoughts tumbled one on top of another quite quickly.
I explained how as a child I always felt so inadequate in my artistic abilities when creating with crayon on fresh pages of a new coloring book. It was obvious from the first marks of my crayon (even brand new pointy ones) that my work came nowhere near the perfection shown on the cover. While knowing my picture with crayons would not look exactly like the cover picture made with paint, my goal was still perfection. Looking back, I wonder if seeing that perfection set me up to fail.
In conclusion of my discourse, I said, “When Beth (our eldest) was in kindergarten, no wonder (name omitted- the mother of one of her classmates who had grown up in Germany during WW2) said children should be made to draw the pictures they color.”
Whether trying to draw my own pictures to color would have been more discouraging than coloring those in the already-drawn books or not is something I’ll never know. What I do know is I never reached perfection in the art of coloring exactly like the picture on the front cover. Worse still, the thought of my being able to draw anywhere near a representation of anything other than a simple kitty with long whiskers or a bunny with a powder-puff tail would require quite an imagination. Hey! Easter’s around the corner! Anyone want me to draw a bunny?
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