ON CHASING CREATIVE PERFECTION BY EMMA LEISING
The only fistfight I’ve ever been in was during second grade. I worked for hours on a crayon drawing, finally got it just right, only to have some little idiot of a boy step on it leaving a massive shoe-print right in the middle. Needless to say, I got sent home that day and he was terrified of me until the day we graduated from high school.
The search for perfection has plagued my creative work for as long as I can remember. Each time it seems to be finally within reach, some metaphorical 2nd grade boy steps all over it. My computer crashes, I find a better typeface, I see a kerning mistake, my pen slips, or the color palette doesn’t properly translate into Pantone swatches. The biggest curse in my search for perfection has been seeing it in the work of professional creatives above me, and trying to figure out how exactly they executed such a brilliant idea visually and conceptually. In 6th grade, it was the girl who could perfectly replicate the powder puff girls cartoons. Freshman year of college it was the Sophomores already inducted into Miami’s Graphic Design program. Now it’s the seemingly endless field of professional (paid) graphic designers. Being able to perceive “perfection” in others without being able to replicate it yourself can drive anyone crazy.
Recently, though, I’ve realized perfection isn’t the ultimate goal. What I thought was perfection was actually connection. Graphic design, and creativity at large, fundamentally helps people interact with their world. It can be through a lens as small as an expired yogurt label or as large as the Times Square billboards. Sometimes the most meaningful connections happen as a result of mutual imperfections. The most groundbreaking designs in history weren’t perfectly kerned and composed, they were rough, emotional, and memorable for their unique way of connecting people, places, and concepts. “Perfection” isn’t what I thought it was. It’s better described as holistic honesty. When a design is true to its purpose, and its function fuels all the aesthetic decisions made, then the design feels perfect because the message and the medium are aligned in their meaning. Sure, there will always be designers with more impressive skill sets than me, but I’ve tried to accept that for every person I look up to, *fingers crossed* there is a freshman looking up to me.
