In praise of unfinished things

My notebook is full of beginnings. Sentences that go nowhere, drawings with one careful corner, plans for things I have not made yet. I used to see this as evidence of a lack of discipline.

Lately I have started to think of it as a record of curiosity. An unfinished thing still holds a question. Returning to it months later, I often find that the question is more interesting than the answer I first imagined.

There is a place for finishing. But there is also a place for experimenting without a destination. Keep a page where nothing needs to become anything.