Everything left handed is harder! And I thought my control was pretty decent, but apparently not top notch. The sketch above was done only with my wobbly left hand. It may look like grade school art, but the process was painstaking. I knew the entire time where to put my lines, but I felt powerless. Making straight lines, such as the divider on my window, was terribly slow, like spelling a word in reverse. Even slowly, the the movement of the pulse in my hand can be seen in the squiggles. Often, I have to remind myself that the goal in all things is not perfection. My hand is slowly releasing its grip around that ideal. In the beautiful words of Paul Kalanithi, "You can't ever reach perfection. But you can believe in an asymptote toward which you are ceaselessly striving."