Tell me if anything was ever done

Many of Leonardo da Vinci’s notebooks bear a haunting scrawl, written years later: “Tell me if anything was ever done…”, “Tell me if ever I did a thing…”, “Tell me if anything was ever made…” These pleas reveal his deep understanding of the need to bring ideas to fruition. Despite his genius, he seemed to sense that his legacy and his contribution to humanity were diminished because so much of his work remained unfinished.

Leonardo’s life brimmed with brilliance but was marked by incomplete works and abandoned projects. His imagination seemed boundless, yet he was painfully aware of the gap between what he envisioned and what he completed. His question cuts to a core human concern: What have I truly accomplished?

In his youth, Leonardo’s mind teemed with curiosity and ideas. The world was a puzzle he sought to solve—designing flying machines, crafting anatomical studies that pushed science forward, and painting works that redefined art. Yet, as he aged, the weight of his unfinished projects grew heavier. The Last Supper and the Mona Lisa endure as monuments to his genius, but his notebooks tell of a man who felt incomplete, like the very works he left behind.

Leonardo’s question wasn’t just about producing tangible outcomes—it was about the essence of creation itself. To him, “done” may have meant the full realization of an idea, the transformation of thought into something functional, lasting, or inspiring.

By this measure, his perfectionism often stood in his way. He labored over the Mona Lisa for more than 15 years, never declaring it finished. His flying machines never left the ground. His scientific studies, groundbreaking as they were, remained unpublished in his lifetime.

His reflections urge us to rethink what it means to finish something. Instead of striving for perfection, we might focus on delivering something of value, learning from it, and building on it over time.

This doesn’t diminish Leonardo’s discipline or insight. Rather, it highlights how perfectionism can hinder progress. His later writings reveal a man troubled by the thought that his ideas—brilliant though they were—might be forgotten because they were never fully realized. As creators, we can learn from this by prioritizing delivery, ensuring we leave a trail of impact that others can build upon.

Leonardo’s lament—“Tell me if ever I did a thing”—is both deeply human and inspiring. It reminds us that even the greatest minds wrestle with getting something shipped. This legacy asks us to consider what done means.

For Leonardo, done may have been an unattainable ideal—a perfect harmony of vision and execution that few ever achieve. Yet his plea encourages us to act, create, and to finally share your creation before the moment slips away; do not wait for perfection but to create, ship, learn, and then create again.

In the end, Leonardo accomplished far more than he might have realized. His works, both finished and unfinished, shaped art, science, and engineering for centuries. His chaotic, genius-filled notebooks prove that even incomplete ideas can inspire others to bring them to fruition. Through them, Leonardo’s question finds its answer: yes, he did a thing, many things, and his brilliance continues to change those it touches.

Let his story remind you: your unfinished ideas can only inspire the world if you share them.