We reach adulthood understanding creativity as a capricious lightning bolt, some willful force of nature that haphazardly strikes only who and when it sees fit with no comforting method to its madness. People either accept that chaotic notion or perceive ideas as manifestations of some cerebral voodoo, a rapport with some inscrutable ether that an individual is either blessed with or bereft of, a real-world analog to the Force. As it turns out, reasonable minds could differ as to which concept lands farther from the truth. I would more closely compare any idea to interest paid on continuous principal investments […]

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