trusting time
in the age of immediacy
Last year I spent 7 months working on a pattern for a pair of pants. I wanted to quit so many goddamn times. It was the fit that eluded me - weird bunching, ugly drag lines. I’d solve one issue and then a myriad of others would arise. I spent hours on YouTube and scoured countless books trying to find answers to my fit issues.
During this period, people often asked me why I wasn’t done yet, why it was taking so long. They told me done was better than perfect.
When people say things like this, I tend to believe them. My inner critic is quick to disparage. Yes, I am being a perfectionist, I think. What is wrong with me.
But I also carry a healthy dose of stubbornness that sometimes wins out. So this time I kept at it, making dozens of attempts, inching closer to some semblance of a good pattern. Then finally, one day it clicked. I hit the winning combination. I had made the pair. And they fit like a dream.
Last week my partner recorded a song on guitar that he’s been learning since last September. It took nearly 8 months of practice for him to record it in one sitting.
This got me thinking about my own work.
Maybe 7 months is exactly how long it took me to make a good pair of pants, to be a student at the feet of this immense craft. What if this has nothing to do with perfection. Perfection would’ve kept me from the work entirely. This kept me clawing for the exit, but continuously showing up.
I recently learned about ethephon, a pesticide that’s sprayed on fruit to make it ripen on command. I think this culture tries to do the same with us. We’re taught to vilify ourselves when things take too long; to distrust our own clocks. Process is only okay if we have something to show for, if the therapy worked, if we made lemonade.
Fortunately, I don’t think the muses give a fuck about our timelines or attempts to play god. I think they’re partial to more earnest vessels.
I hope to be more earnest. And trust that whatever time is given to me is exactly how long I need.
This is my favorite piece as of late. It was started on the artist’s birthday at age 58 and completed on her 61st. She worked on it every day for 3 years. “The whirl of time is thus made visible and sewn to a future not yet known” her caption reads.
