Movement Part 3 - Perfection

Inside pages of Many Small Boxes book

I am obsessed with squares. And boxes. I have been for years. Each of these shapes symbolizes certain things for me. Of course, the box symbolizes how I can contain things, my emotions, my feelings, my personal perspective and beliefs. If you were to ask me “how I really feel” about something, I often make a decision about whether or not I open up one of my boxes to answer the question. The two-dimension aspect of the box then, is the square. And the square for me, symbolizes perfection. It is equal, it is the same on all four sides, it is right angles. It is perfection. It is a symbol at times of the divine, of the beyond, of the unreachable.

A painting during my obsession
with squares and rectangles

This shape began to pervade my life, and I would use the square in many ways. I thought about it when I felt off-balance, and I meditated on its shape when I was stressed out. In my artistic life, I began only to paint on square canvases, I painted shapes of squares and rectangles, and for several years I created books that were filled with grids. - (I’m going to open up one of my cardboard boxes here and tell you now how I really feel) - this obsession with squares didn’t just symbolize my obsession with being perfect, it was the manifestation of how I always felt. It wasn’t a symbol, it was who I was, always needing to be perfect. That is why I have boxes to keep everything contained, everything perfect, and all the messy stuff is tucked away. So then I can just focus on my beautiful square and become… paralyzed.

My view of my tattoo

Of course, the rigidness of being perfect still surrounds me, but I have become much more forgiving and much more loving and accepting of myself. I can move more easily now. I can joke about how I like to stuff things down, and also accept that it is a knee-jerk reaction I have to box things up. (maybe I still box things up, just a little bit still when I’m afraid or stressed-out – I can’t say that being a doctoral student has supported my ability to go easy on myself and to move on). But I do have a reminder. A permanent reminder to be human, to be messy, to be complicated, to be me. To move. It’s printed on my arm so that when I see my blue square, I remember that I put that square there not to strive for being perfect, but to remind me that I don’t have to be.