OK, here's my theory about perfection. Perfection is impractical. A pot doesn't have to be perfect to hold water. A blanket doesn't have to be perfect to keep you warm.

(Of course, I'm talking about perfection in the decorative pattern only; especially, in the symmetry of the pattern.)

Most consumers don't care about perfection, at least not enough to pay a premium for it, at least not enough of a premium to compensate the artisan for the extra care it takes to achieve perfection. Most consumers don't even notice imperfections that would be obvious to the artisan.

While there is nothing wrong with perfection per se, there *is* something wrong with being a perfectionist. If a potter (especially an unskilled beginner) obsessively tries to make a perfect pot, his productivity will suffer. He will have fewer pots to sell, and will make less money in the long run.

Musicians often have to struggle with perfectionism in the recording studio. If you obsess about trying to lay down the perfect track, it will cost you a fortune in studio time. Eventually you have to decide: "It's not perfect, but it's good enough."

I can imagine a master craftsman advising his apprentice: "Forget about perfection. Just concentrate on learning to make as many pots as you can in a day. That's how you make money. That's how you will support your family."

Consider something that takes a long time to make, such as a hand-knotted Persian rug. Suppose an apprentice rug-maker has been working several days at a normal pace, he's maybe half finished, and he realizes that, so far, he hasn't made any mistakes—his work is perfect. He thinks he has a chance to make a perfect rug, something that is nearly unheard of. Then a while later, he realizes that, a couple of rows back, he did make a mistake after all. He used the wrong color yarn. The temptation would be mighty strong to go back and unravel the last couple of rows and fix the mistake.

But the master forbids it. "Let it go. Keep going." He knows that a tendency toward perfectionism is a liability in the long run, and the apprentice had better get over it.

The apprentice finds this hard to accept. He can't give up hoping that his work will be perfect. He might even imagine that the master has ulterior motives. "He doesn't want me to make anything perfect. He's jealous." This could even lead to a battle of wills between the master and apprentice.

The master might even make a rule: "Make your mistake early on, and get it over with. Then you won't worry so much about the rest of the rug."