For art’s sake

“What’s your point?”

The question hung in the air like a coyote that just discovered he had run out of cliff and was hanging suspended in mid-air.

The other person didn’t look up, just hunched over a pad or a notebook.

“No point. Just scribbling.”

“Why? You must have a reason.”

“No reason. I just feel like it.”

Arms flailed in frustration.

“Everyone has a purpose or a point or a reason.”

At this, the scribbler did look up.

“Do you really think so? Can’t I just feel like scribbling or drawing or painting or writing a poem?”

“But why?”

“If you figure it out, let me know. Actually, keep it to yourself. I’d rather just have fun.”

It was a lovely day, at that.

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