Ceramic Designer
New York, New York
If you want to be creative, don't try to do something new. Doing something new means not doing what's been done before, and that's a negative impulse. Negative impulses are frustrating. They're the opposite of creativity, and they never yield good ideas -- not even in business or technology. Creativity starts when you put a line on paper. Then you talk to that line. You make it a partner in conversation. You see that the line can go in different directions: You can make it go left or right, or you can add branches to it. You can think critically about it; you can decide that it is too fat or too thin. You can envision what you want the line to look like. But, whatever you do, don't think about where you can't go.
A salesman who handles my work visited me this morning. He asked me what I've done lately that's "new." Salesmen always ask that question. But that's their problem, not yours. Novelty is a commercial concept; variety is an aesthetic and creative one. If you sit down at a drafting table with the intention of making something new, you'll end up flustered. Creative people always run the risk of making something that already exists, but it's better to create something than nothing. You can throw it away or change it if you want to, but at least you've put down that first line -- and started a conversation with yourself.
Eva Zeisel was born to a prosperous Budapest family in 1906. She designed and sold ceramics in Germany and in Russia, where she was charged with plotting to assassinate Stalin. (Lifelong friend Arthur Koestler borrowed from her prison experiences when writing his novel "Darkness at Noon.") In 1938, Zeisel came to the United States, where she began designing dinnerware for Castleton China Co., Hall Craft, Red Wing Pottery, and cookware for General Mills. Reproductions of her work are available from the Metropolitan Museum of Art and from many furniture and design stores. Original examples of her work can be seen at the Museum of Modern Art and at the British Museum.
IBM Fellow
IBM T. J. Watson Research Center
Yorktown Heights, New York
Good ideas come from asking questions. I'm constantly asking questions: Why are things the way they are? How can we do that better? Innovation comes from believing that everything has the potential to be improved.
When you ask a question, other questions inevitably follow. And there are many people who, like me, feel obligated to try to answer those questions. That feeling of obligation is very basic to innovation. So is the desire to do something new. It's important to feel that you're expected to make a difference -- and that you're qualified to do so. Innovation requires a fundamental belief that individuals are important.
I think that if you want to be an inventor, you really have to know your particular field. That's a fundamental requirement. I'm rather appalled by those "creativity" summer camps, where counselors tell kids that they're going to become inventors. Even simple inventions require some basic knowledge about the laws of physics. There's nothing strange or different about people who innovate; we all start with the same basic abilities. Education is nothing more than the process of asking questions and then looking for answers. Some of us keep on asking questions, and when you spend your life seeking answers to such questions, you become very knowledgeable.
Robert H. Dennard invented DRAM in 1966, thereby making the desktop personal computer possible. Before DRAM -- more commonly called RAM -- computers were too large to be installed in homes, and they needed to be kept cool with air-conditioning. Dennard has worked at IBM since 1958. He received a National Medal of Technology in 1988 and was inducted into the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office's National Inventors Hall of Fame in 1997.
Author
Taos, New Mexico
Creativity is like a water table under the earth. It's not limited to writing or to painting; it's everywhere. It's a life force: You tap it with energy and effort, and it wells up through you. No matter what you do, the first step to tapping creativity is showing up. If you're a writer, you tell yourself that you're going to write for 10 minutes, and then physically move your hand across the page for that amount of time. Maybe you'll produce only one good line, but that's a lot more than you would accomplish by just sitting there. When you're pursuing a particular objective, you have a mind like a pistol. But the harder you chase something, the faster you go -- and the less you're able to let life meet life. If you're having difficulty coming up with new ideas, then slow down. For me, slowing down has been a tremendous source of creativity. It has allowed me to open up -- to know that there's life under the earth and that I have to let it come through me in a new way. Creativity exists in the present moment. You can't find it anywhere else.
Natalie Goldberg roots her work in her longtime practice of Zen Buddhism. Her first book, "Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within" (Shambhala, 1986), has sold almost 1 million copies and has become something of a textbook for writers everywhere. She is also the author of "Wild Mind: Living the Writer's Life" (Bantam Books, 1990) and "Long Quiet Highway: Waking Up in America" (Bantam Books, 1993), a chronicle of her relationship with her Japanese Zen master. She lives in northern New Mexico, and she holds Zen and creativity workshops all over the country. Learn more about Goldberg on the Web (www.nataliegoldberg.com).
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