I've spent my last Friday closed into a meeting room and sitting with a bunch of colleagues, shouting out loud and pointing fingers each other all the time. It's been like a summer rainstorm. It came over us unexpectedly; yet, it was refreshing and very welcome, notwithstanding the sense of unease it left.
It was as if all had been waiting for the right time to break the levee and let the waters flood. A big shed (not waste) of energy. A defatigating act, after a long stretch of time under steady pressure and concentration. Things were apparently going right, the team was performing as expected and the extra effort spent to get to the goal was nothing, compared to the "moral" compensation gained upon succeeding. Yet the storm broke and there was no way (and reason) to make it stop.
At the end of the day we came out of the room completely destressed and unable to fight anymore: no winners and no loosers, no win-win (as the managers would have wished) and yet no loose-loose situation but a program on the table and some working ideas on paper.
It looked to me as a necessary step of the process. After all, there's apparently no difference to the eye of the beholder between a bad picture and a picture purposely make to look like bed. We all know it's not the same to the photographer's mind.