The higher creativity you seek is not about making better things. It is about making truer things. And truth, as it turns out, is incredibly inefficient.

The path is not a golden escalator to higher art. It is a rock-strewn, mud-slicked goat trail up a very cranky mountain. And the first thing you discover is that your inner artist is less a serene monk and more a toddler in a raincoat who refuses to leave the puddle.

And yes, you will still be cranky. The neighbor’s dog will still bark. Greg the inner critic will still show up with his clipboard.