Imperfection

This world is not for the mediocre. The average. The healthy. The normal.

We’re obsessed with over achievers, adrenalin junkies, insane perfectionists.

My favorite one is obsession with technical perfection in the arts. Virtuosos, technical wizards, blemish free anything.

I always thought art was about communicating emotions and ideas. Commentary on life, the universe and everything. Which is far from perfect. I always preached that perfection is not an artistic goal. No one is listening to me.

I went to an international piano competition once. Seriously some of the best up and coming pianists in the world. Pyrotechnical wizardry beyond my comprehension. The art was apparently beyond my comprehension as well. Because if it was conveying an emotion I was supposed to pick up on I totally missed it. Cold, technical, perfect. It was like I was looking at a superbly machined steel cog. And about as heart-warming. What ever happened to soul?

We’re even obsessed with people who are obsessed. The bad kind of obsession. Crippling OCD. A&E has a show called “Obsessed.” I tried to watch an episode. It was horrible. I couldn’t finish it. The suffering and heartache of the individuals and families was brutal. I have no idea what I was supposed to take from the public airing of that. Awareness of the horrible condition I suppose. But a whole series devoted to that. What’s wrong with us?

And am I now obsessed by people who are obsessed with obsessive behavior? Get out of my head! Ack!

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