I smiled at the blank canvas. And I smiled because unlike before I didn’t see it as a lonely slate with nothing to spark a conversation or convey a reaction. I smiled because I saw the potential of what it had to be. I saw it becoming a beautiful landscape or a child’s first dab at art. I saw it becoming something beautiful and even if it wasn’t, I realized that you can’t run out of a blank canvas. And as long as you keep trying that canvas is going to be beautiful someday, even after all the times someone said it couldn’t be or “there’s no way to fix it.” But maybe some things don’t need fixing. Maybe they’re supposed to be there to reference us to the reality that we don’t really want perfect and we don’t really know what that is. What if we’re just trying to make that canvas look like something it wasn’t destined to be? And what if it’s destiny is still just as beautiful?

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