Perfectionism & Creativity

The courage to keep walking

I came across a post by a photographer I follow titled Perfectionism: The Enemy of

Creativity. It was an intriguing read as it resonated with my thoughts and apprehensions

too. It made me pause and reflect on my own path — the hesitations, the questions, and

the quiet push to keep moving.

When does striving to get it right become the very reason we don’t begin at all?

Perfectionism often arrives quietly, disguised as care or commitment. It whispers

questions that weigh us down: Is this good enough? Am I ready to show it?

Should I wait until I know more, learn more, do more?

I’ve heard those whispers often, in my own journey with photography. Picking up the

camera was exciting, but sharing what I saw through my lens brought hesitation.

Are my frames strong enough? Did my words flow well? Even now, as I build this website to

archive my work, I sometimes catch myself wondering if it’s too early — whether

everything should be more polished before it goes out into the world.

And yet, creativity doesn’t grow in the waiting. It grows in the doing — in being willing to

be messy, to fail, and most of all, to be courageous.

The truth is imperfections are part of the story. A frame may not have perfect light, yet it

may hold a fleeting moment worth remembering. A line of writing may not be seamless,

yet it may carry an honesty that resonates more deeply than polished words. If we

pause too long to “fix,” we risk losing that spark of authenticity.

What helps, at least for me, is taking small steps forward: clicking the shutter even when

the light is tricky, writing the caption even if the words feel simple, publishing a collection

even when it feels incomplete. Each step, imperfect as it may be, becomes part of a

larger rhythm. And that rhythm — that movement — matters far more than perfection.

Perfection polishes, but it also pauses. Creativity moves, unevenly perhaps, but always

forward. And in that movement lies discovery. In the end, this journey with my camera

has shown me that what lasts is not the flawless image, but the courage to see, to

capture, and to share.