Mom and Dad send me newspaper clippings from time to time, mostly about weight control, sometimes articles and adverts about New Zealand, but recently there was a short series on Japanese involved in the textile art industry. And somewhere in there someone mentioned that they did not participate in a prestigious event in Paris for the first time in a while, because their work was not perfect. This kind of story is not unheard of, but in fact, almost expected of anyone making thing seriously.
I was reading Jack Lenor Larsen's memoir at the Polytech library this afternoon while waiting for Ben to finish work, and there, he wrote about the efficiency and excellence of Japanese textile workers' skill and methods, and how he thought collaboration with them made it worthwhile even when dollar/yen balance was disadvantageous for him.
It's in our DNA to not only strive for perfection, but so darned many of them achieve it, too.
As a lapsed Japanese, I need to find a happy place where I don't discard everything just because they are not perfect, but not allow myself to slip or accept a lower standard.
Like that's going to be easy...