What is creativity anyway?
Two childhood memories: One: "Our family is not creative!" I remember being told this in response to my frustration with my ineptitude with paints and pencils.* I'm sure the intention was to encourage and let me know that I was not alone - that it was not important. But the effect was that I grew up believing that I could produce nothing of any worth, even to myself, in the creative line. To this day, I have a visceral pit-of-the-stomach reaction to any suggestion that I should express myself through any artistic medium. Two: "Write a story - it can be about anything at all, let your imagination run wild!" said my English teacher. Imagination was something else I knew I didn't have, and any attempt to write a story led me into an inescapable paradox: For every idea in my head of a storyline or character, I knew its source in something else I'd seen or read. This meant it had to be rejected as not a product of my imagination and thus unsuitable for i