Scribbs

Some things begin without a plan. A little color. A wandering line. A space left open for whatever might come next. There is no need to know where it is going. No need to make it look like anything at all. And then, somewhere among the colors, something appears. A little striped shape. To one person, it looks like a bumblebee. To another, a flower. Someone else may see something no one has noticed before. The shape has not changed. But with every new pair of eyes, it becomes something new. There is a kind of freedom in that. In not having to fit a description. In being familiar and unexpected at the same time. In leaving room for another possibility. The lines can wander. The colors can meet and drift apart. The open spaces can remain open. Nothing needs to be straightened, explained, or brought to a perfect finish. And perhaps that is what makes it worth looking at again. Not to find the one thing it was meant to be. But to discover what else might be there. Because some things are not meant to fit inside the lines. They are meant to leave room for wonder.