Imperfect and Beautiful, AKA, What I'm Taking Into October

I'm revising again. 

I seem to revise a lot, which is fine -- it's one of the most useful, beautiful, and unpracticed parts of writing, in my opinion. 

I also seem to write about revising a lot, which is also okay.

September was a full month that included travel myself plus visitors here, plus celebration of love and family. Also: the need for (shudder) mousetraps, plus an empty well. 

It was not a "perfect" month, not that I know what that really is. It held moments I wanted to embrace, others I wanted to sustain, and still others that I was happy to release.

Now I turn my attention to revising a project that's been close to my heart for a long time. Being me, I want it to be imperfect. It will not be.

So I'm looking around. Down and up. And I'm finding beauty -- and imperfection, even IN imperfection -- everywhere.

Like this.

golden birch leaves, sporting holes and generally
appearing crumpled, lie on the dirt

A reddened leaf curls un-picturesquely;
behind it, another red leaf shows brown spots and curled edges

That's what I'm carrying into October. That life can be -- is -- imperfect, and beautiful.  

That despite my best intentions and hardest effort, all my work is also imperfect, and beautiful. My novel will be imperfect, and beautiful, and so will the next one, and the books to come. 

"Imperfect and beautiful" brings me both courage and solace. I can do my best -- and that's all I can do.

So. That's my month gone, and the one to come. I hope you find something that brings you what you need, and that you can embrace it.