'If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly'. In other words, if you enjoy doing something, then it doesn't matter how well you do it. What matters is having fun.
Who said we had to be perfect anyway? Oh yeah, our dysfuncitonal families
The truthfulness of both these statements is staggeringly mind-boggling.
I'd like to cite a personal experience, if that isn't too exruciating to bother with.
If anyone has ever read the Little Prince, I promise you I'm not taking this from that book. The similarities between the two stories are uncanny, however, and I don't want anyone to accuse me of plagiarism.
At the age of 5, I took a drawing of a spider to my mother. It had too many legs, sure, but it was the right color. It even had a web made that had an attempt at my name, just like in Charlotte's Web. I took it to my mother. After one glance, she simply handed it back to me and said "suns are supposed to be yellow." I was immediatly crushed, just as every artist is tortured by the fact that nobody understands their work. I told her it wasn't a sun, it was a spider. She looked at it again and said "I think we need to put the drawing book away and go do some adding."
So ended my illustrious career as an artist, and my first memory of being told to do only what I could. I think it was my mother's attempt to protect me more than anything, but failure is inevitable, and she only made it tougher on me for the future.
Mainly, even if things are worth doing poorly, sometimes they aren't worth rejection, which is a fairly regressive statement, but I can't think of it any other way