Perfection
The great Zen masters taught that everything has inherent perfection. So, despite how it may sound, my art is perfect from the moment I begin. Even at conception, there is already a completeness, a wholeness—if only in my imagination. My role as an artist is not to create perfection but to witness it as it unfolds, moment by moment.
In this way, the creative process becomes a meditation on perfection itself. I'm not striving to make something flawless, nor am I concerned with adhering to external standards or expectations. Instead, I'm present with the work as it emerges. Each moment of creation reflects the inherent perfection the masters taught—the same perfection found in a tree's gnarled roots or a flower's short-lived bloom.
As I work, I am constantly in dialogue with my art. There is no fixed endpoint to strive toward, only a continuous flow of action and reflection. At some point, I pause, sensing that the work has reached a place that most clearly expresses what I want to convey. It's not a moment of completion in the traditional sense but rather a moment of recognition. Like everything else, the piece has always been perfect—it's simply a matter of when it feels most right to stop.
This is the nature of my work. It's the same with all of us—our lives are perfect from the beginning, and our journey isn't about becoming perfect but realizing that we already are.
Inherent perfection is not an ideal to be attained but a reality to be realized. This perfection isn't separate from us, something distant or unattainable. Instead, it's the essence of who we are, of everything that exists.
It may seem counterintuitive, but reality now is perfect. It's perfect because it's not otherwise. It is the perfection of the present, unadorned and complete in its simplicity. Even the thought of imperfection is, in itself, perfect.
Zen practice helps me see this perfection in all things, to recognize that everything, just as it is, is complete, whole, and perfect. It doesn't mean I ignore the world's flaws and suffering. Rather, I see these as part of the whole, as aspects of the greater perfection that includes everything. It's a dynamic and ever-changing perfection, like the changing of the seasons.
