The Psychology of Iteration

First one.
I don't expect this to be good. It won't magically turn out well just because it's wonderful me doing it, so no "hey, everybody, come see what I did!" I am not blind to truth. I know this will suck. I expect it to suck. And it's ok! It's a process!

Second one.
The most gaping problem from last time has been fixed. Well, improved. I'm no longer making that big mistake, but I'm making lots of smaller ones. And I'm noticing because I am not blind to truth. I don't expect this to be good.

Third one
The original problem has been improved to the point where it does not stick out particularly among the 1000 suboptimalities most people would never notice. But I'm getting a feel for the mechanics. No longer completely lost in procedure, I have the mental spaciousness to begin asking questions. Gears spin. Not many answers yet. And I don't expect this to be good.

Fourth one.
Churning away on questions has begun to produce hypotheses and brainstorms. Experimentation. "Will this help?" Most don't work, some backfire, and perhaps one hits...but not quite like I wanted it to. I don't expect this to be good.

Fifth one.
I'm thinking less, yet, paradoxically, scheming more. The questions churn subconsciously, even during other activities. Successful adjustments are remembered - I'm raptly in love with them, so how could I forget? Using my awareness more than my calculating intelligence, attention locks onto shortfalls like an insomniac in a bedroom with a mosquito. I don't expect this to be good.

Sixth one
Some bits of satisfaction, but each solution creates new problems at 1/10 scale. It's all fractal, both in result and in my assessment (the better it gets, the more glaring the shortfalls appear). I make adjustments without needing to match action to result. Persistent awareness of problems (the mosquito!) automatically drives procedural shifts as mechanics become more comfortably second nature. But I don't expect this to be good.

Seventh one.
Around this point, there's a flip. I'm no longer seethingly obsessed with problems - "pushed" by my results. I'm more enticed by how it might ideally turn out - "pulled" by my imagination. Less vexation, more eagerness. But I don't expect this to be good.

Eighth one.
Forget what I said. All eagerness is gone. This, alas, is a "whack-a-mole". A mess of unintended consequences that only worsens with repair. I've lost all control. I'm back to extinguishing bad results. I sure as fuck do not expect this to be good.

Ninth one
Extinguishing bad results. I sure as fuck do not expect this to be good.

Tenth one
Extinguishing bad results. I sure as fuck do not expect this to be good.

Eleventh one
Extinguishing bad results. I sure as fuck do not expect this to be good.

Twelfth one
Extinguishing bad results. I sure as fuck do not expect this to be good.

Thirteenth one.
I've purged most of the unintended results, but the thing itself is now just blah. Meh. Nothing. I've lost both eagerness and irritation, and am just rotely doing whatever I did the previous time while hoping for better results. In other words: Madness! I don't expect this to be good.

Fourteenth one
Madness!

Fifteenth one
Madness!

Sixteenth one
Madness!

Seventeenth one
Madness!

Eighteenth one
Madness!

Nineteenth one
My dissatisfaction rekindled seething obsession, which finally produced a eureka - a breakthrough idea of how I might do things easier and better. Nothing ingenious from afar; I mostly just removed useless stupidity. And it changes everything. But I need to develop it! Back to....

First one.
I know this will suck. And it's ok! It's process!


Two Followup Notes

1. A sculpture teacher ended classes by chucking every student’s clay masterpiece straight back into the raw clay barrel. They flipped out, but a handful were cured of mental malady and, even as they blossomed into accomplished artists, never expected anything to be good. The blossoming and the shift of perspective were not unrelated.

2. From "Should You Go to Cooking School?":

However good you are now, get way, way better, and then, when you're certain you're good enough, get way, way better still. And then get better. Finally, realize you absolutely suck and triple it. Don't wait for an authority figure to goad you into improvement. Make it happen as a matter of survival.

Not that this requires further clarification, but don’t stop improving when people around you start telling you you’re awesome. That happens at the beginning of this cycle. When friends and family start gasping in admiration, that means you’re like one single notch above completely sucking.