Like many people my age, I can count the number of really close friends on one hand. This does’t make me sad I am lucky and blessed to have such lovely friends and I love them. In each of them there are qualities that I just don’t, like a steadfast level headedness and unshakable calm, a bubbly, easy sociable side and an innate practical understanding of all things mechanical for example. Yet none of them are perfect, but here’s the magic; because I love them, they are perfect.
When I think about anyone or anything that I love; I ask ‘is it ‘perfect’? The answer in the cold, logical light of day is always, No. But they become perfect because of the I love imbued in them. So instead of searching always for perfection, I strive for creating things that I love. Perfection is a fickle foe, only love has longevity. I make things that might or might not be ‘perfect’ but most importantly I make things with love.