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Monday, March 4, 2024

An Imperfect Creative Process

An Imperfect Creative Process

Every problem is like a snowflake. They’re all different but they’re all the same. Resolving problems depends on how much snowfall there is in life. No one can manage everything all at once. True self-sacrifice means a total life commitment to a skill or talent. Even with those 10,000 hours, there is a still another component whether there is a presentation built on a quotient, or an emotional attachment to the product.

Generations revolve into their grandparents. Artificial intelligence might revolve into the nuclear quotient of war simply because that is where the world is headed. When the atmosphere is at risk of being incinerated by physics is creativity the last bit of humanity? We’re all dying in imagination when there is an expectation to make life easier. In an effort to be told what to do in order to avoid the shadow of disappointment, the learning process takes a hit. Especially if it is stunted by teachers overcome with anxiety and a lack of patience.

This is where the grandparents revert to the old ways of how they were taught. It is what they know due to the emotions attached to a memory clouded in details uploaded to a digital cloud producing digital solutions.

The core of creativity might seep from a dream or a lucid vision transmitted to a nerve ending but the translation bares an imperfect trace. Met with misinformation from the mind and heart, expression turns with blinders on seeing in a form of tunnel vision the exposure of content lacking faith.

Generating an artificial solution leaves you with the problem that the first word is artificial. There is no art. There is a lack of natural while everyone still eats cereal made a hundred years ago called Grape Nuts. There are no grapes. There are no nuts. It’s an artificial breakfast for the poor and mentally ill. To think that cereal was created out an asylum that burned down somewhere in Battle Creek Michigan is ironic.

That kind of creative business flow where conglomerates were made by oil barons and steel workers fighting for their rights sets the treadmill of a steam engine where getting your hands dirty means that cutting corners is the only solution to profit.

Writing has no substitute. Even if there is a copy. Delivering a vague point might induce another wild idea caused by inspiration without a root. In the roots, there lives a factory of life met by a lack of sun and lots of freshwater filtered from the sky. That process of filtering…

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