Can it ever be done?

An artist is never done; there is always another stroke of colour, another stitch, an added curve, another sculpted line with the chisel; something. For some reason, what ever that itsy bit of added change would do, it would absolutely make the piece thought to be completed, that much better.

Why is it that an artist is constantly searching for perfection - and never finding it? Perhaps it doesn’t exist. Maybe it is not achievable.

I think it is simply the adventure an artist finds when creating - the adrenaline that builds as you dream of the reality about to emerge onto paper, or to come together in dimension never seen before, and then, it invokes more exploration.

And so, it would seem, it is never done, the adventure is just beginning; always. Thank goodness for that.