How I and many creative brains see the world, *see* in the most literal sighted sense.
Timers timers timers, start the timer!
That’s the first thing I think of when I stare at the blank canvas as I start to write—I start a 15 minute timer. One 15 minute sprint just to get started. In a best case scenario (rare), that’s all the time I’ll need to write a solid piece. When the timer runs out, I should shelf it and reread it later (later today, tomorrow, or next week). Why? Because, minus some minor editorial tweaking beyond the 15 minute mark, dwell writing is bad writing. The good stuff either happens, or doesn’t. More than 15 minutes usually also means I’m belabouring something—the writing I do is for the *web*, it needs to be read fast and easily.
The title and idea for this article stems from another one I attempted to finish two mornings ago. A draft article I was re-reading and rejigging but in the end, the time I spent doing so was surpassing the total time it should have taken me to finish it (revisions and all). Which, alluded to its quality. What do you do when that happens? You start over.
Anyways, I only mention that because the subjects are connected. The writing was an attempt at explaining my interpretation on my artist’s brain and mind, how I see things that often differ from other personality types (my wife for one). What I understand as being *my* creative genius.
The contents were good, but scattered. I was trying to touch on too much in a disorganized way.
This time, I’m writing about one of the points and perspectives it aimed to address, which is how I and a lot of other creative brains see the world, I say *see* here in the most literal sighted sense.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always had a hyper awareness about details. I immediately see the minutiae. The minutiae that to many, seems insignificant or minor. Seems being the key word here, because on a broader scale and when compounded, cumulatively these seemingly unimportant things do matter. Holistically speaking, and zoomed out ten or a hundred fold, they become noticeable; sometimes for reasons one can pinpoint, and others for reasons that are hard to put a finger on (that feeling of "it just doesn’t *feel* right").
Most things I see, touch, and come into contact with, I will consciously and subconsciously study. When I read a book, I pay attention to the layout composition factors (the bleed / gutter space, the space between lines, paragraphs, etc). When I glance at a magazine or a print ad, I pay attention to the same things. When I open a cook book, same thing. My brain and mind are just wired that way, I make connections between what I see and things I am working on. When I look at other tangible things, I do the same thing. It could be a tree, a pair of pants, anything—I instinctively analyze the harmonizing or dis-harmonizing factors. To me, the details matter, they’re important. They make a difference in the whole composition of something and they form an overall impression.
In the past, I've always identified this "high level of attention to detail" as one of my greatest strengths, AND weaknesses. What do I write in the performance review strengths and weaknesses boxes? This.
The word "weakness" though is incorrect. I guess the very act of putting the exact same thing in both a strength and weakness box is in itself a contradiction.
I think that obsessing over the wrong details, yes can be problematic. But, if the goal and intent of something is focused on achieving a high level of *quality*, one that considers all sorts of factors that have immediate and long term impacts, then no it’s not a weakness, it’s a key requirement for success.
It’s only a weakness if the underlying goal is something different than quality and longevity. If the end all goal is schedule and/or cost based, despite their qualitative impacts, then yes someone who has a high degree of attention to detail could get in the way of that. The only reason I put it in the "weakness" box, is because I’m cognizant that despite being very good at recognizing how hard to push or not, and to what granular degree I should bring things to people’s attention, there’s always room for improvement in terms of settling for something lesser than excellent. When I say excellent I’m not talking about perfection, those are two very different things. Perfection is not something I strive for, nor should anyone else—all things have a degree or other of subjectivity to them, what you or a collective whole deem "perfect" could be everything but that for someone else. Chasing perfectionism is therefore delusional and harmful.
Excellence though, is a high quality standard that marks an immediate and lasting impression for *most*.
The way I've seen and experienced it is that anything less, is at high probability and risk of being a wasted effort and resources. There’s a proverb that is something along the lines of "if you’re gonna do something, then do it right."—so I guess that’s my modus operandi, pay attention to details; do things *right* or don’t bother. Another way I would put it is "don’t settle for good, good’s not good enough." You're probably by now thinking of the "don’t let good be the enemy of perfect" idiom—I don’t like that analogy because good and perfect are very different things. If anything, it should be "don’t let *great* be the enemy of perfect"– to which I agree.
So I say, don’t settle for anything less than great. Good = "meh". The world is full of "good", aim higher. We’re put on this earth to make a meaningful impact, good means mediocre. Mediocre is unimpressive and unremarkable. Good has no meaningful short or long term impact, it’s the stuff people skim or skip over altogether. Do great and settle for good only when you’re at an impasse, make it the exception and not the norm.