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ALL of my life I have been haunted by the fascinating questions of creativity. Why does an original idea in science and in art “pop up” from the unconscious at a given moment? What is the relation between talend and the creative act? How did Homer, confronting something as gross as the Trojan War, fashion it into poetry which became a guide for the ethics of the whole Greek civilization?

I have asked these questions not as one who stands on the sidelines, but as one who participates in art. I ask them out of my own excitement, for example, at watching two of my colors on a paper merge into an unpredictable third color. As it not the distinguishing characteristic of the human being that in the race of evolution he pauses for a moment to paint on the cave walls those brown and red deer and bison which still fill us with amazed admiration? Suppose the apprehension of beauty is itself a way to truth. Suppose that elegance in art is a key to ultimate reality. Suppose Joyce is right that the artist creates “the uncreated conscience of the race.”
From the preface of “The Courage to Create” by Rollo May
…to be continued…

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