I feel this way particularly about collage -- suddenly the scrap of paper that's been on my desk is perfectly cut out like a manufactured puzzle piece to fit into the composition I'm working with.
I had an incidence like this recently when I was working with polka dot tissue paper. It came in a bag from a store where I bought something. I often recycle like this and work with a lot of materials that one would normally throw out. But I liked the white paper with big black dots so started ripping it up and gluing it down on cardboard that I had painted various shades of gray weeks prior.
The next day I went into the garden to practice yoga. I rolled out my orange mat and sat down to meditate, and out of the corner of my eye I see a scrap of black and white paper. I continue to meditate and then work on my physical asanas with this black-and-white scrap of paper now a full-blow distraction. I must have had some of that polka dotted tissue paper stuck on my person and then accidentally left a mess now outside. I went over to clean up and saw that it wasn't my polka-dotted paper but a single feather from a bird with plumage of black with white polka dots. I had never seen birds like this in the back, and rarely, if ever, came across a feather like this let alone the exact mirror image of the paper I had just been working with.
Instead of being a fluke or treating it as an aberration, I view these coincidences as the everyday wonders of living in the flow and groove of life.