There’s an interesting dilemma among artists: The perfectionist vs. the prolific. Which one produces “better” art. Would you ever really put out work if you’re a perfectionist? Would you ever put out quality work if you’re not?

Basically, there are two types of artists in this world: The Michael Jacksons and the Princes.

Now, Michael Jackson would spend months, sometimes years, perfecting a single track. He’d layer vocals until they became symphonies, tweak every beat until it pulsed with precision, and refuse to release anything that wasn’t absolutely, undeniably perfect. And that was his approach to creating masterpieces after masterpiece as well as the best-selling album that has ever and will ever exist.

Prince, on the other hand, treated his studio like a 24/7 factory of creation. He’d write a song in the morning, record it in the afternoon, and move on to the next idea by evening. He was so prolific that he created a vault under his studio that, to this day, contains thousands of unreleased tracks, entire albums’ worth of material. From this enormous, relentless output came masterpieces like Purple Rain, 1999, and Sign O’ The Times.

Both approaches produced legends. Both created work that changed the world.

There’s something rather intoxicating about the pursuit of perfection. That moment when every element aligns and the vision in your head finally matches what’s in front of you. The Michaels of the world believe that great art isn’t just about having good ideas; it’s about executing those ideas flawlessly.

They are the Kubricks of the film world. Those who do take after take until a ball rolls perfectly in the centre of a line on a patterned carpet in The Shining.

But perfectionism can also become a prison. You begin to see flaws where others see beauty. You hold onto work because it’s not “quite right yet,” ironically becoming so focused on making something perfect that you forget to make something at all.

But then there’s also something rather intoxicating about pure prolificacy. The Prince approach says: create, release, move on, create again, release again, move on again. Perfection here is the enemy of expression because the next idea could be better than the one you’re wasting time polishing to death.

The Princes believe that the act of creating feeds itself. Each project teaches you something for the next one. Each “imperfect” release brings you closer to your Purple Rain. Ridley Scott can produce two films a year. Not all are great, but that doesn’t take away from his undeniable talent and legend-status. There’s a Martian in the universe of House of Guccis (I did enjoy House of Gucci though).

The danger here, though, is that you might release work before it’s ready, dilute your impact, and develop a reputation for inconsistency. But you also might stumble onto something incredible while chasing something else entirely.

So, what about the prolific perfectionists? The Prince-Michaels? Those who pick and choose who to be as and when that personality is needed. Not every art must be perfect, but some art does require a perfectionist’s time. “Art” is a medium of expression. For some works of art, what matters is how the audience interprets what the artist is expressing. For others, the artist merely wishes to express himself to, well, himself. This, therefore, goes back to another blog post of mine: Who are our films for?

I couldn’t answer that question so Mother’s Smile: The Movie, has sat with me for nearly two years, unreleased, because it isn’t the “perfect” film – The Michael. (I’m finally putting it out tomorrow though) Instead, I worked on a whole bunch of other projects related to Mother’s Smile back-to-back. These collaborative efforts are not my main focus, that still remains Mother’s Smile: The Movie, but I felt a wave of fulfilment upon the completion of each project – The Prince.

Maybe the question shouldn’t be whether you’re a Michael or a Prince.

Maybe the question should be: what does this particular piece of art need you to be?

And maybe… just maybe… that’s the only creative philosophy that matters.