#Creative thinking

[reality-detective]

Work smart not hard. 🤔

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Divergent vs. Convergent Thinking

Future ADHD

[smoking-witch]

First GIF I've ever made. It's of myself. If you liked it, plz tap buttons so I know you want me to make more gifs like this

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Creative Thinking by Denis Medri

[bbdon]

This will probably be my only post but I hope maybe one Harvey fan out there will enjoy this mind worm of an idea I’ve had. I always like imagining music videos with songs. It helps with my stress. So I may of thought of one to go with the song Vienna by Billy Joel (because I found it in a Harvey themed music list). Just imagine during the whole song it’s a brief summary of Harvey’s life, like his childhood and love for planes to him entering college to be a doctors, ending with his life in Stardew. As the song ends; Harvey noticing Farmer running past, them noticing each other and introducing each other. Somehow I imagine it done in watercolours and sketchy lines but whatever. I know, it’s probably corny as hell 😅

[incidentalcomics]

For more comics on overthinking, check out my latest book.

[toyastales]

I love the beautiful arch tucked under the staircase. The terracotta rust hue accentuates the creative design choice.

[getcareless]

Triolet Poem #46

You can't have cake and eat it too. You can't have two sides of a coin. If it is fake then see it through, you can't have cake and eat it too. You can try take or leave it true or meet halfway where both sides join. You can't have cake and eat it too. You can't have two sides of a coin.

"Two Sides Of A Coin", JEP

[juno-writes]

Corpse Writing Excersize

A paper would be passed around and we would each write a sentence or two, then the original writer would edit the writing to make it make sense. Here was mine!

Oliver loved the color red. This was because he was normal. As normal as can be. Sure, he loved a lot of things: grapes, playing catch, picking berries, hugging trees, but what he loved more than anything else was the color red. At the moment, he was peeking out at the magnificent sculptures from his hiding place behind the clock tower. He admired how the giant iron bodies reached out toward the sky or danced in among the grass. He thought how amazing it was that they had been built thousands of years ago and amazing how people were thinking and feeling the same things as he was as he glanced at the sculptures.

Something he often wondered behind the clocktower, was if people thought the same way about the sculptures. Did they see them for their true beauty? Or did they just see them as a symbol of wealth in a capitalist society? He knew both were true to some degree, and it both saddened him and excited him. He often wondered if one day he wouldn’t feel so alone, but somewhere in the back of his head he knew that would never happen.

“Why would you ever think that you would be viewed as anything more than a poor boy with a useless dream?” He would tell himself. He often looks up at the sky and thinks to himself “what does the color purple taste like?” to “am I going insane?” 

Then, at the end of the day, he would go back home, the woman working that day would scold him for being out too long, and he would rush to bed. Instead of going to sleep though, he would think and dream about the sculpture of the woman with the bow, always about to tip over, or the boy reading a book, “what book was he reading?” Oliver would think out loud accidentally. But all in all, he was happy with the clock tower and gazing at the sculptures from afar.

[chuckbbirdsjunk]

[zufluchts-worte]

I want to turn my pain into art real acryl color on canvas hung in my living room so everyone can see

the poppy field disappear the bright red petals slowley blown away

the tide breaking against the rocks of the Oregon coast the ocean crying cold, salty tears in my name

[reality-detective]

* * * News Interruption * * *

[mcad-creative-leadership]

The Cult of Creativity: Book Review

Part Two

Flash forward to the late 1950s. The landscape shifted, yet again. There was an overwhelming amount of ad saturation. It was clear that creativity was no longer just a nice-to-have; it was imperative for economic survival. Following the significant 1958 Art Directors Club conference in New York, creativity was redefined as universal, urging businesses to tap into the untapped wells of creative potential. ​ However, the post-war period also brought criticism of advertising as manipulative, leading advocates like Bill Bernbach to propose a shift towards viewing advertising as an art form rooted in intuition and creativity. This transformation was pivotal, advocating for a management approach that focused on ideas and meaning. As consumerism surged, this new perspective raised pressing ethical questions about manufacturer desires, artists' exploitation and rent speculation. Consequently, creativity became a bridge connecting the realms of art and business. ​ In understanding this commoditization, Franklin explores a key theme: the dual nature of creativity. On one hand, it serves the interests of capitalism; on the other, it holds the potential to transcend transactional motives and challenge societal norms. The "creative class," encompassing artists, designers and entrepreneurs, often finds itself at odds with the reality of economic precarity. Many, although celebrated for pursuing their passions, struggle to achieve financial stability, revealing the underlying tensions in our understanding of creativity as a societal good. Is it really following your “passion” if your well-deserved reward doesn’t make you enough money to survive? ​ This opens the door for a different conversation entirely—I could publish a few blogs on this subject, but we will jump back to the main point: consumerism. Franklin argues that the narrative surrounding creativity has often favored corporations over individuals, monetizing a fundamental human need for novelty. This perspective invites us to critically examine the ways in which creativity has been harnessed to serve capitalist agendas, often at the expense of community welfare and genuine innovation. ​ Yet amid this critique, there is always a glimmer of hope. Franklin encourages us to embrace the complexities of creativity, advocating for its role as a transformative force rather than a mere tool for consumption. True creativity, he suggests, should challenge the status quo rather than cave into it. While it can thrive within capitalist frameworks, it has the potential to reimagine oppressive systems and empower individuals to seize agency over their lives. ​ To foster such meaningful creativity, we must re-evaluate the motivations driving it. We must prioritize traits such as empathy, communication and care, recognizing them as essential components of our humanity and our systems. The COVID-19 pandemic highlighted the essential roles of non-creative jobs and our interdependence as social beings. Recent environmental crises further underscore the need for restraint, as the relentless pursuit of novelty and growth can compromise the health of our planet. ​ Franklin's call for a balanced approach challenges us to rethink not only our relationship with creativity but also the broader implications of constant innovation. Collectively, we should advocate for a world where creativity is not merely a commodity but a force for good—where each creative endeavor contributes to the well-being of communities and ecosystems. ​ In summary, recognizing the social and historical context of creativity allows us to unearth its multifaceted dimensions. By endorsing and redefining creativity as a conduit for shared values and collective action, we can aspire to forge a new narrative—one where creativity serves a higher purpose, transforming lives and fostering deeper connections among individuals and with the world around us. In doing so, we may just illuminate pathways that lead to a more harmonious, equitable future.

[devanshusstuff]

[redrabbitbones]

THINK OUTSIDE THAT BOX!

[theview-from-halfwaydown]

“sweet as honey

my dreamy boy

words dripping down my throat

creating a warmness inside

life was so bitter

so dull before you

but the sun shines brighter

and the skies bright blue

like your eyes

so memorizing

different shades and hues

all perfectly come together

like atoms going to fuse

our veins running together

soft finger tip tattoos

our minds on forever

he’ll never leave me bruised”