Perfection used to feel like discipline. Now it feels like delay.

I used to polish things before they’d even earned the right to exist – rehearsing instead of releasing, refining instead of testing. It looked like care, but it was fear in disguise.

But I’ve been learning to work differently. To ship the unfinished, to test before I tighten, to let experiments breathe. Some things fall flat; others surprise me. But at least they move.

The work teaches me more in motion than I ever learn from holding it still.