It starts off as a tiny thought, just a glimmer perhaps that teases somewhere in the recesses of neural pathways, a bird working its way through the shell to break out, until the thing appears, perhaps fully formed, perhaps not, to make itself known, heard, now living.
I took ceramics for three years. My teacher used to go through the drying rack and if a piece was not thrown or built to the proper thickness, bottom not beveled, rim not trimmed right, etc. he would throw it back into the wet barrel. When a student would complain he would say, "Don't fall in love with your work. If you can do it once you can do it 100 times and better." He was a great teacher. No matter what the medium, a piece is not finished until it's finished.
I took ceramics for three years. My teacher used to go through the drying rack and if a piece was not thrown or built to the proper thickness, bottom not beveled, rim not trimmed right, etc. he would throw it back into the wet barrel. When a student would complain he would say, "Don't fall in love with your work. If you can do it once you can do it 100 times and better." He was a great teacher. No matter what the medium, a piece is not finished until it's finished.