The Neverending Quest for Perfection

Makal brought home a box of tea a few weeks ago, one of my favourites: their White & Green tea blend. One of the things I love about Good Earth--and many other tea companies--is that they put little fortunes or quotes on the tea tags. It's fun in the same way a fortune cookie is fun; you might not take it too seriously, but it could be good advice all the same.

However, this is the quote/fortune I've received on two of the tea bags from this box (of 12):

"Artists who seek perfection in everything are those who cannot attain it in anything." - Eugene Delacroix

Well, that's no fun! I mean, not that I intentionally seek perfection, but the quest for such is inevitable. Especially given my OCPD inclinations with any project or activity I'm involved in. But who is to say that seeking perfection is not a worthwhile goal, so long as one is realistic in their expectations of achieving it? Yeah, I would say that. But then, I could tell you some aweful tales of me wanting things to be perfect; let's just say that I rarely get my way when that's the case. It's not necessarily all that fun

Of course, Delacroix is one of those artists whose works were always remarkable to me for their artistic detail and honest portrayal of reality, though that is not to say that they were perfect, especially given the subject matter (often concepts of humanity and in that, war; humans being some of the least perfect things I know of). And to be sure, I've never known an artist to step back from a piece and exclaim "Perfect! My work is done!"... no matter the medium. Artists are kind of jaded perfectionists that way.

Yet this leaves me wondering... if one--artist or no--does not seek to create something "perfect", will he some day realize that he has achieved it? Is it possible for the subconscious mind to stumble upon perfection without the awareness of the creator, so that when he least suspects it suddenly it is bearing down upon him? That would be a most overwhelming realization, methinks.