Perfectly Imperfect Artinya Novels & Stories

"That's nice. What else?" "We sang songs. Then Mrs. Pepper told us a story. It was about a beautifuw princess in a really high house and she had—" Hope suddenly let go of Gary's hand and stopped walking. He stopped as well, a little surprised. She then extended her arms to the side. "—really really really long gold hair!" She then took back Gary's hand afterward and started walking again. "Wow. That's really long. Would you like long hair, Hope?" "Oh. I don't know. It will be hard to brush. I don't want mommy to have a hard time brushing my hair."

“What do you see? Because all I see right now is emptiness.” “Put enough imperfections together and, eventually, you will achieve perfection. But even then, perfection is all about perspective. Maybe you and Ivan and your imperfections will make the kind of perfect you both need.” She cupped my cheeks and kissed the top of my head. “Sit here, drink wine, and I will go and call my pain-in-the-arse twin to make sure he’s not taking a hammer to a door or something.”

Sam: "Ok so what's the plan?" Casie: "Ok so the painting is damaged so maybe we can suggest to this painter that he introduce it as modern art." Sam: "Is this your idea. Seriously? The painter will be kicked out immediately" Casie: "Hmmm.. you are right so can we reverse the time before the painting is spoiled." Sam: "Casie we cannot play with time and reverse it randomly." Casie: "What if???...No this is just a stupid idea." Sam: "What?"

I said and she looked at me almost confused. I let out a small sigh and grab her hand slowly moving the brush across the canvas “brush stroke is everything” I stated “every stroke means something, it’s a part of you but how you work you seem rushed and stressed like you don’t want to do it or mess up, but that’s art messing up is okay it’s not about being perfect, you just have to know that every imperfection is what makes it” I explained and stepped back. “Do you know how amazing you are?” she whispered, looking back at me and standing up.

The sun was setting, painting the room in warm gold and soft shadows. Nora stood before a canvas, brush poised but unmoving. “You’re not painting,” Jaden said quietly. “I am,” she replied, though her hand trembled slightly. “You’ve been staring at that same spot for ten minutes.” She sighed and lowered the brush. “I don’t know what I’m afraid of more. I'm messing it up… or getting it right.” Jaden stepped closer, careful, slow. “Art’s not about perfection, Nora. It’s about truth.”

One day at a time. And it's beautiful. Not perfect. Not polished. Not what I imagined. But mine. Completely, impossibly mine. And that's everything.

I kept it at the back of my mind. Then the text from Aria the night of the gala. He's everything, Jordan. That “everything” bothered me. Perfect is not a word that applied to people who were actually real. Real people were specific. They had things that were good, things that needed work, histories that were complicated and patterns that repeated. Nobody who was real was everything. Everything was what you said about someone when you hadn't found the edges yet or when you'd found them and chosen not to look directly.

I was surprised to hear her think like that. “What are you saying, Poppy? No one is truly perfect. I'm not even the ideal wife. My husband has his shortcomings too. None of our kids are without their faults. Take Faith, for instance—no matter how kind-hearted he is, I wouldn’t call him perfect. Maybe as a partner, yes, I believe he’ll be a perfect husband for you. But he has his weaknesses too, which means he isn’t perfect either. Every person has their own unique set of flaws, whether they’re physical or mental. That’s what makes us special, Poppy. It’s perfectly okay not to be flawless. Those imperfections help shape our identity. If everyone were perfect, we’d miss out on the chance to le

"That's the best line I've ever heard, Dave." "Is that all? I haven't heard your answer." He threw back what she had given him. And Anna laughed, realizing it was for her earlier demands. Same sentence. "Then okay. I may not be perfect. But if you're willing to accept my imperfections, then I'll be fine. And so am I. I will try to accept your flaws." "You know I'm perfect." It was meant to be a joke. Luckily, she caught it that way. "Then I will accept all your perfection." She ended with a giggle at the thought of that felt funny. Perfection in imperfection or perfection is imperfection?

I also looked at my work, and I saw so many imperfections. It was a painting of a small flower in the middle of an empty field with short grass. The flower stood under the sun, with one of the petals nowhere to be found. Some spots were splotchy, and some areas weren't blended well. "Umm, it needs to be polished?" I said in an unsure tone. "I'm not talking about the technicalities," he said. "Of course, it's not perfect. I'm talking about the meaning." "The flower is incomplete," he said, pointing to it momentarily. "Do you think it's because the artist found it too tedious to finish it?"