There was a time, when you picked up crayons with sticky fingers and just drew... No one told you it was wrong. No one said it had to be perfect. And if they did, you didn’t care. You were too busy making magic.

There’s something about sketching in the open air that feels a bit like breaking the rules. Maybe it’s the grass under your feet instead of a desk. Or the fact that birdsong is your playlist, and there’s no undo button for a breeze that lifts your paper. ..

There’s a strange kind of pressure that creeps in when you open a blank page. It sits quietly at first… a little nudge to make something nice, something worthwhile, something that at least looks like you tried. But what if this week, you tried less?

The light lingers a little longer, the days stretch open, and something in us begins to thaw. There’s no need to rush into it. This is not the season of grand plans or perfect outcomes: it’s the season of soft beginnings. This month, we’re stepping outside the lines.