There are times when we have to go back to the start, erasing all that happened in the space between. To move backwards feels monotonous, unnecessary and disappointing. What about what was imagined? What about what was supposed to be?
The ritual is never easy, but all we can do is to try to do it the right way. If that means throwing away five days, five weeks, of five years in order to get it straightened out, it’s a risk we are willing to take. If it means failing in public only to begin again, that’s a risk we are willing to take. Anything less is to become so calloused that we no longer appreciate the incredible privilege of being able to create, anything less is to do a disservice to the gift of making art.
What about the lost time? What about if the second guessing drives others crazy?
Never admitting the problem, never growing from the failures, never improving after identifying what’s wrong is a form of carelessness. More than that, it makes for bad art, as stumbling along just to stumble is not artistry, it’s being sloppy. Accepting anything less is to live in a permanent state of good enough, but not quite right.
To move forward means to go back.