Can You Learn to Be Creative? (你可以更有創意嗎?)

Can You Learn to Be Creative? (你可以更有創意嗎?)
[創意組織 ]
(2003/08/05)

Can You Learn to Be Creative?

MOST of us want to be more creative, but the plethora of advice is enough to drive you crazy. There are literally thousands of books and self-help programs that promise to teach you all the special secrets of creativity. So let's begin with three commonly held myths, first among them that creativity is a rare form of genius. Not true--everyone can learn to be more imaginative. Second, that creativity matters only in the arts and sciences. Again, not true--fresh ideas can invigorate any area of human endeavor. Third, that creativity is a talent and thus effortless. False--intense energy and strong motivation are needed to generate original ideas. How do creative people create? And what can the most creative people--writers, artists, scientists, entrepreneurs--teach us? Can we apply in our lives what they practice in theirs? Can creativity be learned? Are there any techniques for generating originality in projects and ideas? Our contributors, all of them prolific and creative people from diverse fields, share some of their secrets with us.

PARTICIPANTS

Dr. Gregory Benford, an astrophysicist at the University of California at Irvine, has written more than thirty books of science fiction. Greg talks about how to break the creative logjam and make the writing process fun.

Dr. Mihaly (Mike) Csikszentmihalyi, the author of Flow: The Psychology of Optimum Experiences, is a leading authority on creativity. Mike emphasizes the openness and the curiosity of creative people, and how we can all share in the creative experience.

Dr. Rhoda Janzen, a poet and instructor of English literature at UCLA, has twice been the poet laureate of California. Rhoda describes her creative process, analyzes one of her poems, and talks about how she encourages creativity in her students.

Dr. John Kao, a noted teacher, entrepreneur, and the author of Jamming, is an expert on corporate creativity and management, John, who was trained as a psychiatrist, discusses the training necessary to develop personal creativity.

Dr. Todd Siler, an internationally known artist, author and entrepreneur, is the first visual artist to receive a doctorate from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Todd believes that you don't have to be a genius to think like one.

ROBERT: John, you're a creative machine--entrepreneur, jazz pianist, author, movie producer [John was a production executive on Sex, Lies and Videotape, which won the Palme d'Or (First Prize) at the 1989 Cannes Film]. Is creativity a talent that only comes naturally, or can you teach it?

JOHN: The answer to both questions is yes. I think we all have tremendous creative abilities. And yes, creativity can be taught. Maybe not in the sense of finding one set of rules that works for everyone but by looking for patterns, for different aspects of creative skills.

ROBERT: Rhoda, you've published over a hundred and fifty poems. Describe the creative process when you write poetry. What's the root of your own personal creativity?

RHODA: Well, creativity for me, as it manifests itself in my poetry, is a process that's almost like a trance. I just sit down when I have that idea, and I begin to write. I've learned how to intellectualize it, to rationalize it, to speak about my poetry in an academic way. But the process itself--that first act--is just sitting down and letting myself go.

ROBERT: We're going to ask Mike [Csikszentmihalyi] to analyze you later. Greg, you're an astrophysicist and science fiction writer of such books as If the Stars Are Gods, in which beings are collected like songs--quite a creative concept. But what do you do when you're stuck, when the page is blank, when your creativity is cramped, when the ideas just aren't flowing?

GREG: Then I go for a walk, or I go for a swim. One thing I've learned is, don't make it hard. The surest way to block yourself is to make writing a disagreeable experience, so that your unconscious remembers next time that it doesn't want to go there.

ROBERT: Does that happen often?

GREG: No, because for me it's always fun. If it's not fun, I don't do it.

ROBERT: Todd, your science-based paintings are collected by major museums around the world. And you have a company that teaches creativity in schools and businesses, based on your book Think Like a Genius. Can anyone think like a genius?

TODD: You don't have to be one to think like one. Look at that enormous treasure chest you have--the three-pound complex we call a brain, which encompasses such a vast range of thought and feeling and experience. The first rule to tap your potential is just to be open. And to embark on that inner search for yourself.

ROBERT: You have to be willing to work at it?

TODD: Yes. Most people are more creative than they give themselves credit for. There's a beautiful thought by Goethe, who said that if children were allowed to develop naturally from the day of their birth, they'd all be pure geniuses. I absolutely believe that.

ROBERT: Mike, in your book Creativity: Flow and the Psychology of Discovery and Invention, you profile many of the world's most innovative people in the arts, sciences, and public leadership. What makes these folks tick? What's at their core that generates such creativity?

MIKE: Oh, they're quite different from one another in many ways, but one thing they have in common is their tremendous curiosity, which leads to a kind of unfettered openness in experiencing the world. There are people eighty, ninety years of age who are like children of six or seven; they're still open and curious about the world.

ROBERT: There's hope for us.

MIKE: I think so. The more childlike we become, the better.

ROBERT: I'm in good shape, then. Are these principles applicable to normal people who want to be more creative in their daily lives--as opposed to the superstars you deal with?

MIKE: The important thing is not to confound success--recognition--with the creative experience. We can all experience creativity, but unfortunately not all of us can be recognized as artists. Recognition comes only to a few people, although that would change if society paid attention to more disciplines and domains. But if we're talking about the experience itself--then, yes, we can all live much more creatively.

ROBERT: Greg, I want to put you in a hypothetical situation. Imagine you're lecturing on creativity to two diverse groups, both of which you're quite familiar with. During the day, you're teaching physics graduate students. At night, you're conducting a workshop for young science fiction writers. Your assignment is to engender creativity. Are you going to use a different approach with each group?

GREG: No, I think I'd start with the simplest thing, which is analogical thinking. I'd teach them to ask, "How is this thing like that thing, and how is it not?" To look for comparisons where you wouldn't think any basis for comparison existed, and go on from there--see if something comes out of the woodwork. Creativity is really just a process of trying to make a connection that you didn't see before. But you have to be open to it.

ROBERT: But physics students have been trained to do structured problem sets in, say, differential equations, while the science fiction writers may be free-form thinkers. Does that make a difference?

GREG: Well, with the physics students, you might ask, as Einstein did, "How is going up in an elevator like standing on the earth? Are they the same experience?" That's the equivalence principle, which was a giant step toward understanding gravity. Nobody had ever thought of it before, but these two experiences are the same. It's just that simple.

JOHN: Greg is in a good position to consider your hypothetical example of bringing two groups together and seeing what crosses boundaries. New ideas often come from the collision of different perspectives--from almost forcing the square peg into the round hole.

ROBERT: Greg is the personification of collision.

TODD: One of the best things you can do to spark the creative process--whether in scientists or writers or whomever--is to get people to approach problems from unique angles. Getting rid of the normal categories we all put things into also helps.

JOHN: And the categories can be demographic. In our company, our information-systems guy is sixteen years old, and so he's also our token teenager. We make sure to have a blend of different kinds of people--different ages as well as different disciplines.

ROBERT: Rhoda, you've won awards for innovation in teaching. What do you do to generate creativity in your students?

RHODA: I agree with what's being said about bringing different groups, different demographics, into dialogue. At UCLA we're fortunate to have one of the most diverse student bodies in the country. In my classrooms, I deliberately invite dialogue between different cultures, different ethnic groups, different racial groups, and we begin to challenge assumptions--the act of going into dialogue pushes us and expands our boundaries. But by the same token it's also important to ignore categories. For instance, if I'm trying to emphasize creativity in a classroom, I might say, "Let's look at this mid-nineteenth-century novel and find some commonalities with this late-twentieth-century film"--so not only are we crossing the boundaries of art, we're putting these oppositional forces into contact.

ROBERT: John, what are the primary mistakes that people make when they're trying to be creative? What forces inhibit creativity?

JOHN: Part of it is the voice of judgment. "I'm not doing work that's good enough" or "I'm not creative, it's not part of my job." Another big mistake is to assume that there's a right way to practice creativity--that there's an objective set of principles that you have to study. Obviously there are certain principles, in a general sense, but one writer I know in Hollywood works only between four and five o'clock in the afternoon. Others work ten hours a day--

ROBERT: With both hands--

JOHN: --and probably both feet as well. Creativity is variable, in terms of the specific style, and people need to understand that they are free to develop their own style.

ROBERT: Mike, what are some mistakes that you've seen among the hundreds of creative people you've interviewed?

MIKE: Most of those people were lucky enough to have survived all their mistakes, so they don't make as many as they used to. But I agree with John [Kao] that many people feel constrained--they feel they're not entitled to try something different. They think their lives have been set for them from the beginning, and that they shouldn't explore other interests. This can lead to a routinization of thinking as well as living, which then spoils their chances to be someone else.

ROBERT: Todd, tell us about your school programs and how they engender creativity in young children.

TODD: We have an art and science program that integrates the inventions and languages and ways of looking at the world that the arts and sciences employ. We use a range of tools that I find useful for people who don't describe ideas well in words but can model them.

ROBERT: Physical, tangible models?

TODD: Right. For instance, we ask groups of people from diverse backgrounds and of different ages and interest, "What's your ideal learning environment--but don't tell me, show me." And we supply them with a range of ordinary materials, with which they build these fabulous multidimensional symbolic models that represent their ideas, visions, and viewpoints.

ROBERT: So you have them use model-building to express abstract ideas. What other questions might you ask?

TODD: What does learning mean to them? How do they like to be taught? What are the kinds of things they want to learn? And how do they want to apply what they learn? Today what's happening in schools is that children are becoming brilliant test takers, if that, and then they dump the information, literally, at the door. Ask them three weeks later, "What is it that you studied? How are you applying it to your life?"--and many of them are clueless. Our program increases the meaning and the usefulness of the information they're learning, so that they can apply it to their lives, interests, and passions. This model-building allows them to do that. They can use their own intelligences and learning styles to build something that makes their thought processes tangible.

ROBERT: People actually build these abstract sculptures.

TODD: Yes. They're not making art or science or engineering per se. We ask them to literally give form to their thoughts: "Show me!" It's a sophisticated show-and-tell. Using various common materials, they draw, cut, paste, and build multiform objects inspired by mental connection-making techniques. These objects look three-dimensional, but they're more, because they have parts that move [and change over the fourth dimension of time]. There's also a fifth dimension, which is the symbolism expressed. The signs, stories, and symbols cross intellectual barriers.

JOHN: I'm reminded of the process that designers go through.

TODD: Prototyping.

JOHN: Designers have to move right away into something concrete, because if they stay stuck in the conceptual, their conversations will be pyrotechnic but useless in the final analysis. So how do you move quickly from concept to some kind of an embodiment? In business, people often think of creativity primarily as moving from generic concept to specific concept. Todd seems to have created some kind of language for concretizing thoughts, enabling people to communicate.

TODD: Yes. It's a form of prototyping, because you're actually bestowing form. But it's not as restrictive; it's much more free-form. And it's nonthreatening--there's no prerequisite of having to be an artist or a scientist, a poet or a thinker, or anything. You take the most common materials and give form to thought. It's the symbolic embodiment of thought.

JOHN: That's important, because people are often stuck in the notion that they have to find the right answer--say, when they're making a decision about their future--as opposed to figuring out something that's good enough for now, until you transcend that with a new understanding.

RHODA: And once you've got your embodiment, once you've built your model, you're going to change it. Constant change is one of the wonderful things about the creative process. It takes the sting and the pain out of thinking, "Oh, I've got to create something fabulous!"

TODD: Nothing's fixed. It's all changeable; it's all modifiable--the point is the growth. It's like part of the evolutionary process. Since you allow free interpretations, it's going to be morphing and doing all kinds of things.

MIKE: One of the problems of the creative process is that people think they'll get to the end of it and that's it. But in the creative process, you learn from each step of the way, and with each step something changes, and you don't know what the end will be.

ROBERT: Finality is often a fallacy in creativity. Mike [Csikszentmihalyi], you often refer to Viktor Frankl, the Austrian psychotherapist and concentration camp survivor, who wrote Man's Search for Meaning. Is there a relationship between creativity and a search for meaning?

MIKE: All creative people, whether they're scientists or artists, are really trying to understand how the universe is put together, why it's there, what it's doing.

ROBERT: If we had the answers, we wouldn't be doing this series.

MIKE: That's right. And that quest keeps going on. New questions arise all the time, and the search gets more and more interesting.

ROBERT: To make the universe even more interesting, we're going to ask Rhoda to read one of her poems for us.

RHODA: I'd be happy to read a poem. It's called "Seniors Witness Portent." It's set in urban Los Angeles, and it's based on something that happens virtually every day--an event I witnessed one day when I was out with a friend.

I was driving with my friend the optimist
who despite her optimism had that afternoon
noticed at Ralphs that on her shopping list
she had scribbled ground belief. The moon,

starlike, air-kissed the Hollywood jacaranda.
The unhappy geriatrics withheld applause,
sitting on what they wished was a verandah,
not the bald cement abutment that it was.

They were motionless after a matzo supper,
watching as on a stage a curse-hungry teen,
whose face was tossed like a crumpled wrapper
into our headlights and our panic of adrenaline:

he seized a bicycle and sheered it at our car.
It was one of L.A.'s casual cruelties, the faces
as from a hole punch, dispensable and sure,
the earth that roils with unnamed psychosis

just under the urban blanket we have tucked
around its bulk, the faultfinding and the path
seismic--oh, it's been coming, it's been sicced
on us, the six-toed night-blooming behemoth.

ROBERT: Rhoda, I'm going to put you into a difficult situation. I want you to be the teacher in your English class, and you're going to analyze this poem, written by some woman you've never met. How would you dissect it? What's the core of its creativity? Why did it win prizes?

RHODA: Well, before I would ask my students why it's a successful poem, I'd just look at it in terms of what's happening. What is this poem about? I'd probably ask my students to tell me what's going on at the literal level. You know, there are so many negative stereotypes attached to poetry. Students think it's about love and fancy emotions and anguish and so forth. And poems don't have to be about that. So I would ask my students, "Look, what do we know about the speaker? Who is this friend that the speaker is driving with? What do we know about their relationship? Literally, what's happening in the poem? Can you describe to me this incident of violence, and the intentionality behind it?" And then, once we've established what's actually going on, I might try to move the discussion into why these comparisons are being made. I think it all goes back to what we mentioned earlier--connections and discursiveness. How and why are we bringing together things that don't seem to have much in common? For instance, in this poem, why has the poet compared seismic activity to a gesture of adolescent rage? What do those two things have in common? I would take it from there and invite my students to participate in this sort of unfolding analysis.

ROBERT: Greg, in your science fiction, do you do similar things? Do you bring conflicting ideas together?

GREG: Oh, sure. The best way I know to generate a story is to smack people together, basically. The big problem I usually have is not starting a novel but stopping a novel. I just finished a novel and then realized there was something more I wanted to do with it. So I called up my editor, and she said, "Can't you leave those people alone?" And the answer is no. The problem is that my characters keep on doing things, because they engender their own lives. And it's really hard for me to put them down.

ROBERT: Give us an example.

GREG: Well, there's this character who dies and then reappears.

ROBERT: Not a problem for you.

GREG: Appears in a different form. And it was a big surprise to me to have this person coming back, as it would be in real life. But being a science fiction novelist, I could do it technically. But I didn't know what was going to happen until I initially turned the page and found out at about the same time the reader will. I really like that, although it's kind of tough. It's not sailing smoothly on the lake of serene consciousness--it's more like whitewater rapids all the time. And that's why I turn to writing very eagerly, and in a sense to find out what happens next. And this is the way I hope people read my books--wondering what's going to happen.

RHODA: Do you ever feel out of control in your artistic process?

GREG: There's always an element of being out of control. Skiing is like that. There's some sense of control--one thing I finally learned from my high school English teacher was to outline. I outline more and more, but it's just to put a frame around the story.

ROBERT: Todd has been out of control ever since I met him twenty years ago at MIT.

TODD: I love listening to this. When I finish reading a novel, I'm really involved with the characters and I tend to create continuing virtual stories with them. They go on living in our imaginations, and we do things with them even after they've stopped at the end of the book.

GREG: Now you understand the disease of unendingitis.

ROBERT: Rhoda, are students afraid to be creative because they don't want to look silly?

RHODA: Frequently they are afraid to be creative, and it's one of the things I fight against in the classroom. Students need to be comfortable. They need to feel confident in their own skills. I want a student to be able to make connections between things. I want to be able to ask them, "Look, what's the connection between a Faulkner novel and a Drew Barrymore film?" And if they feel comfortable coming up with that commonality, they'll be able to develop a fruitful analysis.

ROBERT: What is the connection?

RHODA: Well, that's up to the students. And I don't necessarily want them to end up with Drew Barrymore, but until they feel comfortable and have faith in their own connections--in their own ideas; the ideas that they originate--then they won't feel comfortable going on to further analysis.

MIKE: In general, when very creative people are engaged in a voyage of discovery, they don't know what the end product will be. It's a scary thing. And you have to learn to control that fear, and be like Ulysses.

JOHN: Creativity is intangible. You sit in a room and you think, until ideas become concrete in some way. You may have no navigational aids to tell you where you are. So an important part of the process is to develop trust in yourself. It's almost a way of having a dialogue with yourself, as if you were your own patron, or your own best friend, or your own nurturer, encouraging yourself to step forward, be brave, change the frame, alter your work habits, try new things with no guarantee of success.

ROBERT: Where have you done that in your own life?

JOHN: When I was involved in academic teaching, I wanted to empathize with my students. So for several months before classes started, I would study something that I knew nothing about--like learning to play a new musical instrument or reading about some obscure period in history--just because I wanted, in some respects, to give myself permission to start with a blank piece of paper and get back into a beginner's mind. These kinds of experiments, this internal theater of maneuvers, might seem a bit nutty--whether it's setting up your workspace, or pretending you're an investigative reporter in your hometown, or putting on someone else's head and trying to see the world through a different set of lenses. But they might get you the metaphoric pot of gold.

ROBERT: That's how I thought about this show--at least, the nutty part.

JOHN: There you go. Thank goodness.

TODD: You have to have the courage to experiment. You leave behind your fears. That's the hardest part--getting people to suspend that fear, that self-judgment. Getting them to say, "Gee, what would this connection be like? What's behind it? What could it mean?" And having the confidence to undertake the kind of independent thinking that we often don't cultivate. We all subscribe to more of a herd mentality. We all agree on ways of looking at the world, instead of allowing ourselves to experiment--not in the structured way that science experiments but in a very loose way, where you welcome serendipity and surprise.

ROBERT: How does the integration process work in all this--where you need a period of time just to sit and let it stew?

GREG: We've been talking about work. I want to talk about not working. I favor creative laziness. Every night, I fix in my mind the things I'm struggling with, and I go to sleep. In the morning, lying face down, before any signs of life, I just go to the mailbox and see if anything has arrived. I just let it happen for five or ten minutes. It may appear as though I'm being lazy--and in fact I am--but I'm trying to get the unconscious to do the work that I don't have the time to do. And it's like a gift every time it arrives. I think this works about a third of the time--that is, every three days or so, I get something in the mail. Sometimes it's just junk mail--you know, "YOU MAY HAVE WON A MILLION DOLLARS!"--but at least it's something.

MIKE: Most creative people have these routines that help them break away from linear, rational attempts to solve problems by the usual means. Your mind is able to make connections you would never have made no matter how hard you tried. But you have to have the skills. I talked to a musician, for instance, who says that he looks at his hand with awe and wonderment as it composes. Of course, he could look at his hand for twenty years, and if he didn't have that skill, it wouldn't do anything. So, you have to have the skill, and then this creative laziness will let you look at it from points of view you never had before.

TODD: There's a complement to creative laziness, which is the other extreme. Some people actually increase their creative vigor by working--creatively working and multitasking lots of different things. And while other people are dropping dead just looking at them, they're revitalizing themselves. You'd think that somebody who finishes a project that would kill most mortals would want to rest. But in fact it's the creative fever that--

ROBERT: --energizes them.

TODD: Energizes them. It's unbelievable. It's a fast burn all the time. Feels great.

ROBERT: Excellence in all fields can be produced by contradictory styles. Gary Kasparov and Anatoly Karpov are great chess players, though each has a radically different approach--one is an aggressive attacker, the other's a plodding defender--yet both are world champions. It's the ability to do what you do extraordinarily well.

MIKE: And finding your own way of doing it.

ROBERT: John, what can we learn from these three creative people: a poet [Rhoda Janzen], a writer [Greg Benford], and an artist [Todd Siler]. What in the richness of their experiences can help normal people in everyday life?

JOHN: Let's put on the hat of an anthropologist and simply study them in their native habitat, to see what kind of work processes they employ. When do they work, where do they work? Greg [Benford] was talking about being willing to go for a swim if he felt he was getting a little stale. What's the work setting? What does it look like? What's on the desk? Is it solitary? It is interactive? We begin to build case studies of how the creative process works.

ROBERT: Mike, how would you study these creative people we're holding captive here?

MIKE: Just to follow on from what John [Kao] was saying, I think what we learn from them is that they've taken control of their own lives--maybe willy-nilly, maybe under pressure--and developed a way of personalizing their own activity and experience. They're not pushed around, they don't follow an externally imposed pattern; instead, they try to figure out how they can express what they know in the best possible way.

ROBERT: How about their methodology?

MIKE: Each one probably has a different way of working. You can look at when they get up in the morning, when they eat, when they sleep, and so on--and you'll come up with an average that doesn't mean anything. The only thing they have in common is that each has discovered how to manage the creative process for himself or herself in the best possible way.

ROBERT: Creativity is the combination of general principles and individual variability.

JOHN: But they all probably have a fascinating creative biography--how their interest began, how it evolved, whatever reversals they may have had. And what their learning process has been, throughout. If we could find some overall time dimension as well, that would be fascinating.

ROBERT: Let's contemplate a time dimension here and look forward a hundred years. Will creativity be a subject we learn in school, like English and history?

JOHN: It already is, in some countries and in some communities. What's going to be different a hundred years from now is that we'll all have access to a rich array of technology-based tools, and perhaps other kinds of methods, for amplifying our creativity.

MIKE: What probably will be different is that we'll be less and less obliged to follow certain patterns that are foisted on us, either by backward technology or backward social arrangements. And this freedom could make us a fantastically creative society.

RHODA: I hope so. I hope that the boundaries between disciplines will be down, or at least flexible, and that art will be enriched by responses and accomplishments from other fields.

GREG: I think we may be able to access creativity technologically. Literally get some sense--because we know how the brain works--of what it feels like to be creative. And that would be something new for human prospects.

TODD: I think our world culture will eventually be struck on the road to Damascus and realize that creativity is the growth engine of learning, the way to discovery, to invention, to civility. To humanity. And we'll get wise to that, and we'll study it and respect it, and this will allow us to flourish. Period.

ROBERT: CONCLUDING COMMENT

ALTHOUGH the fields in which creativity is applied are radically different, the processes whereby creativity is generated are remarkably similar. Learning to be creative really works--but it takes work. How do you solve a problem creatively? The first key to creative problem-solving is to generate numerous alternative solutions that are sufficiently different from one another. Don't fear conflict, even confusion, among these competing ideas. Be willing to be wrong. Allow insight and inspiration to wash over you. But don't evaluate possible solutions too quickly; analysis--even accurate analysis--stifles creativity. Develop your entire set of creative solutions first; then, and only then, appraise them. But then you had better be rigorous and merciless in your analysis. Woolly-brained, poorly structured, creative solutions can be worse than no solution at all. So test them all; eradicate the weak ones--Kill off your own babies! Never be satisfied; always monitor results; constantly re-assess everything. That's how you learn to be creative, as the right processes move us closer to truth.

Editor's Translations:

How do you solve a problem creatively? The first key to creative problem solving is to generate numerous alternative solutions that are sufficiently different from one another. Don't fear conflict, even confusion, among these competing ideas. Be willing to be wrong. Allow insight and inspiration to wash over you. But don't evaluate possible solutions too quickly; analysis--even accurate analysis--stifles creativity. Develop your entire set of creative solutions first; then, and only then, appraise them. But then you had better be rigorous and merciless in your analysis. Woolly-brained, poorly structured, creative solutions can be worse than no solution at all. So test them all; eradicate the weak ones -- Kill off your own babies! Never be satisfied; always monitor results; constantly re-assess everything. That's how you learn to be creative, as the right processes move us closer to truth.
[因該怎麼樣利用創意解決問題? 第一關鍵就是產生很多不同的解決方案。 在這些互相競爭的方案中不要恐懼衝突, 甚而混亂。 不要害怕犯錯誤。讓靈感啟發您。 不要太性急評估解答; 分析-- 甚而準確分析—會抑止創意。 首先要發展出一整套創意性的方案; 然後才去評估他們。可是一但您開始了分析階段你必需嚴謹和殘忍。 測試他們; 根除微弱-- 殺掉您自己的嬰孩! 不能得意; 監測結果; 經常重新評估一切。只有這樣才能學習創意, 才能利用正確的過程更接近真理。]
--- Robert Lawrence Kuhn

-- Bevin Chu

Explanation: Can You Learn to Be Creative?
Illustration(s): Gregory Benford, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, Rhoda Janzen, John Kao, Todd Siler, Robert Lawrence Kuhn
Author(s): Dr. Robert Lawrence Kuhn
Affiliation: CLOSER TO TRUTH (CTT)
Source: http://www.closertotruth.com/topics/creativitythinking/211/211transcript.html
Publication Date: N/A
Original Language: English
Editor: Bevin Chu, Registered Architect