There's nothing like a deadline to sharpen organizing skills (and get the stress hormones working overtime). I have a show of Transience and Radiant prints going up at the Georgetown Lombardi Center in March, and all of them must be varnished and mounted on wooden panels. Drawing on my experience of bookbinding and framing (both were jobs that supported me when I studied photography), I do this work myself. It keeps me connected to the craft in my art, allowing me to be in my body, not just in my head, and no one is going to know the results I want better than me. But I have to manage my days like a general planning a military campaign. Varnishing prints, and then gluing and mounting them, requires steadfast commitment, a steady hand, and my strongest pair of glasses. It also requires a very clean studio—every surface immaculate. Though I love the process, it is stressful, and I wrestle with my tendencies toward perfectionism. It's so easy to make mistakes! As I hold the brush or the blade, I take a deep breath and consider the Japanese Zen aesthetic of wabi-sabi—nothing lasts, nothing is ever finished, and nothing is perfect. It reminds me to keep it simple, get on with the work, and let it go.