“If it’s not broke, don’t fix it.”
I’m sure you’ve heard that one before. I know I have. In fact, I confess to having said it, more often than I want to admit – and I meant it. This comes naturally to me, the need to manage risk and focus my limited energy reserves on the most obvious problems.
But I recently have come to a different perspective, a driving sense that for any created thing to have the feeling of being new, fresh, authentic, gasp-inducing, it requires a bit of danger. The process of creating something real is nurtured by the exciting (terrifying) possibility of utter failure.
So I ask you (and me) now: If it’s not broke, why not?
If it’s not broke, are you even trying?
If it’s not broke, have you left it in its packaging, on a shelf in the attic, thinking maybe it will be worth something in fifty years?
If it’s not broke, do you love the idea of ____ (fill in the blank) more than the actual ___?
If it’s not broke, what are you waiting for?
If it does not at some point bring you to the breaking point, break you on the wheel of its unrelenting demand, perhaps it’s just a hobby.
Now, for the sake of your art, please, go break something.