Ah, pressure… how I love thee. I don’t know even if I’d ever want to be a diamond… it might be a bit uncomfortable trying to get comfortable all the time. The same is true or being dust… you can never be too sure if you’re entirely there… because, well, you’re made of dust. There must be a happy medium between the two. I’ve seen Frank take the pressure he’s under and turn it into some great work. A day later he takes that same pressure and does nothing but eat vanilla pudding all day. He’s not diamond or dust… he’s like wood with a coupon for some steel.
All this is easier said than done. You can learn how to deal with pressure, but until you’re actually pressed, what does it mean? Will you deal well or not so well? Will you be hard or will you just be blown away?
