On Creativity

Where do you find yourself wandering in the pitch black? Where do you go when confronted with a blank white whatever? Where is that place you reach into and summon something you can call a brilliant magnificent new way of being? What keeps you up in the still night? What makes you uncomfortable enough to keep looking? What is the thing that you just can’t let go of? Why is there a pang in your chest when you’re sitting still? Agitated? Yes. Jittery? Yes. Unsettled? Yes. Why must you insist on pushing through when you clearly do not have to? [ ... ]

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