What forms the foundation of effort in a creative endeavor?

If I make a creative art, is there an obvious vertical hierarchy of capital goods that went into producing the final product? When a physical structure is erected or a technological marvel crafted, there is an obvious assembly of materials, research and engineering needed to turn imagination into realization. However, it seems as though the foundation of creativity is internalized within the mind, and is more of a horizontal rather than vertical process.

A bird landed on the tallest branch of a tree. The tree, being the tallest in the land, was home to several other wild creatures, two of which were the black squirrels and the yellow bees. The bird eyed the nuts of the squirrels and the honey of the bees. All the riches of the world are laid out before me, he thought to himself.

Quietly, he approached the squirrels nest and creeped inside. Suddenly, the squirrel appeared and bared his sharp claws. ‘Don’t take my nuts,’ he said, ‘If you do, I will die when the winter comes, and the other squirrels of the tree will remember.’ ‘I care not,’ said the bird, ‘as easily as I came to this tree, there are many trees, and I shall never step here again.’ ‘Wait!’ said the squirrel. ‘If you let me, I will help you steal the bee’s honey. There lies a rich reward more tantalizing than any nut.’

The first few months were filled with uncertainty. Since the discovery of the infinite resource generation device, people no longer had to work to support themselves. Land as far out and as cheap as Siberia could be used to craft a home. Basic necessities such as food and water were then created without incident or cost using the IRGD.

It was a wondrous time. People no longer needed to go to work to support themselves. It was complete chaos at first. Pirated plans were widely distributed on the Internet and 3D printers were used to easily craft the device. Within a few days, enough of them existed that friends were using them to craft them for their friends. Within a mere week, every family on the entire planet had an IRGD.

I realized something today. When you’re younger, you know that there will always be time in the future to do things.

• Want to write a book? Don’t have to do it now … Don’t know enough anyway, I’ll do that eventually
• Want to learn how to play an instrument?* You can learn that later on when you’re in a different stage of life.*
• Want to visit other countries? *You’ll do that when you have money and vacation time. *
• Want to get married? You’ll meet someone, you’ll see. It will just happen someday.
• Want to get in shape or build your body? I’ll start that eventually, just not today. Too many video games to play.
• Want to get to know your parents & grandparents better? I’ll talk to them in a year or two, once that stuff becomes important to me.

As children, we put off all the things we are powerless to do because we have a good excuse-we don’t have the money, experience or resources to do them. We put off the things we don’t want to do because we just don’t see the point. And, perhaps most importantly, we realize that we have plenty of time to accomplish any goal we please once we’ve decided what to do with our lives.

It dawned on me as I watched Tron that perhaps the right person was sitting in Encom’s EVP chair all along. Now don’t get me wrong. He was a ruthless, immoral bastard by any sense of the archetype. But consider the following:

It started out with this guy who wrote a couple basic video games. Great, right? Then along comes this guy who steals the video games and sets himself in motion to become an EVP. You know the whole saying, good artists copy, great artists steal, yada yada. Then he invents artificial intelligence.

So, I decided to check this movie out again. Believe it or not, I haven’t seen it since I was fairly young. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I actually saw it.

As it played, I realized that as a child I created several conceptions of the people, scenes and events that exist within the movie. As strange as it sounds, I am somehow able to remember the feelings and understanding I had of the movie when I was young.

The vast oceans and bright shades of thought, In broad streams do incessantly flow for naught. Steeled with willing mind and kindred choice, On committed course I move with lonely voice.

A stream flows and life’s water it will bring, Sometimes murky or turbulent from its spring. Slave to dams unknown its passage flounders, A crowded prison awaits with endless wanders.

With time’s aid canyons and valleys are shaped, And what was dry is wet and bears the escaped. A granted path spares rocks but yields no fish, But the vast ocean’s promise fulfills my wish.

I was walking through one of the smallest malls I’ve ever been in today. I was on my way back from picking up a new pair of running shoes when I thought to myself, “What the hell, why not.” I doubled back to the entrance and walked around. I saw the familiar assembly of establishments which define human creativity and culture: Claire’s, Victoria’s Secret, Game Stop, etc. All of those stores were quite expected. What I didn’t expect was the mix of feelings I’d have as I walked past this store called Pottery Barn.

I believe that my mind has been compromised.

Not in any way you could possibly imagine, mind you.

I have done some thinking, and came to the conclusion that I am getting old. I find it more and more difficult to pick up new things—it takes a hell of a lot longer. Maybe this is what neuroplasticity is… it’s the fact that when you’re younger, it feels like the days are longer, meaning you have high neuroplasticity, but when you get older, the days are shorter, meaning it has diminished. Your capability to learn new items has decreased literally because it seems as though you have no time to do it.

Some ways I thought to express tension:

• The tension in the room was sufficating.

• I sat in silence, woefully aware of the thickness in the surrounding air.

• All of a sudden, I could not breath with surprising effectiveness, the room felt much more enclosed, and I found even myself experiencing the rushing panic of claustrophobia.

• Breathing was always something I took for granted. And yet I found myself struggling to breath when the air was as clear as a cool autum breeze, to inhale when the nearest toxin was thousands of miles of away.