Creativity

Yesterday, I took a walk to the Brooklyn Bridge, a notorious tourist trap but also a beautiful and marvelous feat of engineering. I wanted to photograph it (a cliché, I know) so I can make a print for someone as a gift. Hours passed in what felt like minutes. This experience, this immersion in creation for its own sake, is what makes me call myself an artist. So when a friend of mine–who reads this blog–made an off-hand comment critical of the fact that I call myself an artist, I wasn’t offended, but it did get me thinking about: who is an artist? What makes someone an artist? Is it enough to just make art? Do you have to show it? Sell it? Call yourself an artist on your LinkedIn profile?

I’ve been contemplating the nature of cognitive space—specifically, how our contemporary patterns of engagement have transformed our relationship with unstructured thinking time. Many of us instinctively reach for our devices at the first hint of unoccupied moments, filling potential mental openness with scrolling, consumption, and external stimulation. This pattern suggests a collective shift in how we perceive the value of simply being alone with our thoughts.

Writing about the process of writing offers a valuable form of meta-reflection—similar to the artist who pauses to teach and examine their craft. This recursive exploration creates opportunities for insight that might otherwise remain elusive in the forward momentum of creative production. The Value of Creative Self-Examination # Any creative pursuit benefits from periodic reflection on both process and purpose. These moments of examination invite important questions: What motivates this work? How effectively am I executing it? Does my approach align with my authentic intentions? Does the work represent my genuine vision or a compromised version of something else? Am I creating primarily for personal expression or external reception? What ultimate purpose does this creative activity serve in my life and potentially for others?

Artistic expression represents a fundamental human capacity—one that exists within virtually everyone, regardless of formal training or recognition. While our educational systems often position art as supplementary rather than central to development, the creative impulse appears deeply woven into our nature. Though I engage with creative practices regularly, I maintain a humble perspective about my own artistic abilities, viewing myself as an enthusiastic participant rather than a polished expert.

The writing process presents varying levels of challenge for different individuals. In my experience, I find relatively little difficulty writing about subjects that captivate my interest, though I recognize this fluency isn’t universal. My own relationship with writing includes notable variations—fiction creation presents substantial challenges that I’ve largely chosen to avoid rather than overcome, perhaps indicating an area for potential growth.

We’re taught from an early age that hard work leads to rewards and success. This wisdom has merit, but what if I told you that laziness—yes, laziness—might be equally virtuous? When most of us think about laziness, we picture someone sprawled on the couch binge-watching Netflix, lost in video games, or perhaps hurkle-durkling in bed well past a reasonable hour. We’ve been conditioned to view laziness as productivity’s enemy—the antithesis of work, responsibilities, and self-improvement.

“So, what do you do?” The innocuous cocktail party question lands like a philosophical challenge whenever I hear it. My internal response: Which identity would you prefer I present today? I could truthfully answer: Software Artisan Philosopher Amateur Blogger Author Investor Entrepreneur Human With Two Dogs Computer Person Techie Nerd Former Lyft Driver Autodidact Potato Farmer I could continue this list indefinitely, but you get the idea. The question assumes a singular professional identity—a neat categorization that rarely captures the multidimensional reality of contemporary lives.

The Art of Embracing Empty Space # I’ve been cultivating a counterintuitive skill lately—the capacity to be comfortably bored. This practice runs against our cultural programming, yet I’ve discovered it holds remarkable potential. While I once viewed boredom as something to avoid at all costs, I’m now intentionally creating space for it in my life.

I find myself drawn to the concept of “discovery” rather than “invention” when considering human innovation. This framing suggests we uncover possibilities inherent in the universe rather than creating something entirely new—with some individuals finding ways to translate these discoveries into economic value. The Challenge of Originality # Moments of apparent insight often invite a humbling recognition: many seemingly novel ideas have precedents in earlier thought. The vast expanse of human intellectual history means few concepts emerge without antecedents or parallel development.

Traditional educational frameworks have historically emphasized memorization as a primary learning approach. Many educational systems structure their curriculum around retention of specific information, often prioritizing this over developing creative thinking capacities. This emphasis deserves thoughtful reconsideration. While memory certainly plays an important role in learning, the development of critical thinking skills and information literacy—the ability to efficiently locate, evaluate, and apply relevant information—may offer greater long-term value in our knowledge-rich environment.