On a good day, at least 30 ideas (+/- 10) emerge in my head. For fleeting moments, I would be improving the environment, creating artworks, composing songs, writing stories, making (self-proclaimed astute) social commentaries, forming connections, or generally toying with abstractions. Unfortunately, these ideas rarely cross my brain-hand barrier.
Is it laziness? Fear of rejection? A combination thereof?
Is "too busy with research" just a lame excuse?
Or is there something else, something more sinister lurking below the noise threshold of my consciousness?
If I continue reading The Zen of Creativity, will I find my answers?