I have always been a dreamer. Ever since I was small, my brain has been a constant wellspring of creativity. Ideas, thoughts, inventions, images, tunes. Sometimes they dribble out like viscous crude oozing from the ground. Other times they gush forth exploding like hot steaming geysers. Occasionally they emerge fully formed, like a song, complete with verses, chorus, and coda. More often, they come as fragments, like broken bones or pottery shards that must be pieced together before their meaning is apparent.

The most maddening – or perhaps the most intriguing aspect – of creativity is that not all the ideas that spring from my mind are superlative. Sometimes, my middle of the night ideas are imaginative, original and innovative. Other times they suck. Sometimes my “better mousetrap” is really not any better.

The point here is, that it is only by doing that I find out which ideas have merit. It is only by actually putting pen to paper, picking up a hammer and saw and bottle of Gorrilla Glue, that you find out if that idea that’s rattling around in your cranium is any good.