Chalk art knows the rain is coming. It gets drawn anyway, and somebody walks by smiling before it’s gone.

Something can be worth making purely for the gap between when it exists and when it does not. The value was never stored in the drawing itself; it went to whoever walked past while it was still there. Nothing has to be kept in order to have done its job.

Make something this week with no plan to preserve it. A meal, a joke, a good hour with somebody, a sign taped in a window. Then let it go without photographing it first. Whoever it landed on already received the entire point of the thing.