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<!–> [–><!–> –><!–> [–><!–>One of the traits most closely associated with creativity is being open to new experiences. Some people don’t naturally lean that way, but as with all aspects of creativity, openness can be developed. In a sense, you’ve been practicing all week: Maybe you tried intentional daydreaming on your drive to work, or […] More
<!–> [–><!–> –><!–> [–><!–> –><!–> [–><!–>When I watched that scene recently, I realized that, yes, Shakespeare seems fueled by something otherworldly — but there’s a lot of hand cramping and quill stripping happening, too. Creativity is a combination of “aha” moments and hard work. We’re quick to dismiss the latter and assume that the best […] More
<!–> [–><!–> –><!–> [–><!–> –><!–> [–><!–>Sometimes, I miss my subway stop. But on the whole, daydreaming is a positive thing, a portal to more happiness and innovative thinking. We could probably be getting more out of it, though, said Madeleine Gross, a research scientist at the University of California, Santa Barbara, who studies curiosity and […] More
<!–> [–><!–>Welcome to Day 2 of the Creativity Challenge. Yesterday, we talked about how you can practice being creative, and noted that small, creative tasks are like stretches for your brain.–><!–> –><!–> [–><!–> –><!–> [–><!–>If you think of creativity as a freewheeling and boundless activity, adding rules may seem counterintuitive. But research shows that blank […] More
<!–> [–><!–> –><!–> [–><!–>Many of us have a narrow definition of creativity. We think it’s a rare gift reserved for artists. But we’re all creative in some way, whether or not we think so. And being creative comes with big health benefits. It can energize you, sharpen your ideas and problem-solving skills and act as […] More
A new Times project wants us to nurture our creative side. Last May, my father-in-law showed up at my house with a child-size drum set in his trunk. That might make some parents shudder, but I was thrilled. I was a drummer when I was younger, with a set just like this one, and now my 7-year-old son could follow in my footsteps.I’ve learned two things in the year since. First, you can’t force your kids to like the things you like; my son has probably played those drums for 15 minutes total. More important, though, I learned that I wasn’t a former drummer. I’m still a drummer. Even though I hadn’t engaged that part of my brain in years, my trips downstairs to do laundry now usually include a few minutes bashing on that little drum set. I’m not making beautiful music — just ask my neighbors — but I’m having a great time. Every little session leaves me feeling energized.That spark of creativity is something my colleagues at Well, The Times’s personal health and wellness section, think everyone could use more of. Starting tomorrow, they’ve got a five-day challenge that aims to help readers nurture their creative side. I spoke with Elizabeth Passarella, the writer behind the project, to learn more.After years away from the drums, I’ve been shocked by how good it feels to make music. Why is that?What you feel is what many of us feel when we do something creative: giddy and inspired. Whether you do something more traditionally creative, like draw or play music, or riff on a recipe because you were out of an ingredient, it gives you a little boost. And there is plenty of research that links creativity to happiness and better moods.Some people reading this are gifted painters and musicians, I’m sure. But others would probably say that they don’t have much artistic talent. What would you say to them?You are all creative in some way. There’s a definition of creativity that researchers use: generating something novel that is also useful. That could be the score to a movie. It could also be, as one expert told me, a brilliant solution to keeping your dog out of a certain area of your house. Or making up a weird game to play with your toddler.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More
Artificial intelligence, though shrouded in risk, promises a revolution in how we see the world.This personal reflection is part of a series called Turning Points, in which writers explore what critical moments from this year might mean for the year ahead. You can read more by visiting the Turning Points series page.The following is an artist’s interpretation of the year — how it was or how it might be, through the lens of art.An Eiffel Tower hangs upside-down in a mirrored sky, like salvation from heaven — a convergence of sadness and joy. This gunpowder painting on glass and mirror, and another similar one on canvas, draws inspiration from a scene in a proposal I developed in collaboration with the Pompidou Center for the 2024 Paris Olympics.Lasting for about six minutes, and accompanied by the final movement of Gustav Mahler’s “Symphony No. 2 in C minor,” the sky painting “Resurrection” would have used around 3,000 drones equipped with small colored firework nozzles to paint the sky alongside daytime fireworks from the Eiffel Tower. The magnificent scene would have created growing flowers, the cosmic sky, white wings and a white flag beneath the Olympic rings.Cai Guo-Qiang (b. 1957, Quanzhou, China), “Resurrection: Proposal for the 2024 Paris Olympics,” 2024. Gunpowder on canvas, 183 cm x 152.5 cm.Photo by Mengjia Zhao, courtesy Cai StudioWhen I conceived the project in 2022, the world was slowly emerging from the Covid-19 pandemic, gradually finding its footing after two years of disorder. It was also the beginning of the Russia-Ukraine war. The project’s tone took in both of those realities. It was one of regeneration and rebirth, echoing the peaceful, antiwar and unified spirit of the Olympics.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More
This essay is part of a series called The Big Ideas, in which writers respond to a single question: What do we fear? You can read more by visiting The Big Ideas series page.It’s not common for someone’s career goals to include conjuring fear. But you could say that the definition of my life’s work as a writer of scary books has been to bring more fear into the world. I must admit I’m proud of the generations of people I’ve managed to frighten, providing a shiver, a chill, or perhaps a disturbing nightmare.As a result, people constantly ask me: What scares you? What are you afraid of?I don’t often talk about what scares me. But I’m going to tell you the two scariest moments of my life. (These are actual events, not fantasies from my “Goosebumps” series.)The first terrifying moment involves my son, Matt. When he was a little guy, maybe 4 or 5, I took him to the New York International Auto Show at the Javits Convention Center. There were thousands of people and hundreds of cars.And I lost him.I froze. Matt had vanished. I still remember my intense panic — something I’d never experienced. I spun around, staring from aisle to aisle. Finally, I spotted him standing beside a car. My heart pounding, I ran over to him. I shouted, “Matt! Matt! Are you OK?”And he said, “Where were you, Dad? I was about to call the manager!”I’d forgotten he was a New York City kid. I didn’t have to worry about him. If he had a problem, he’d call the manager.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More
Artists and community organizations around the world are increasingly turning to art to create positive social change.Using her arms as a makeshift clapboard, a Sudanese woman in a black hijab and black-and-white caftan clapped her hands together, signaling the beginning of the rehearsal. The other amateur Thespians, wearing comic stick-on mustaches, moved to their marks, improvising a scene in a women’s beauty salon where one patron’s hair is accidentally dyed blue.As the scene ended, all the women were in hysterics, ribbing each other over how they could better play their parts next time. Scenes like this are common at the Kuluhenna Creative Workshop, which is held at a community clubhouse on the outskirts of this Yorkshire city. The workshop is open to all local women, but with a focus on immigrant communities, including refugees and asylum seekers.The 90-minute class, which the Mafwa Theater has held since 2019, is a happy space. Each week, some 15 women gather to tell stories, dance, act and gossip. They are provided with bus passes, a play area for their young children and an on-site health worker in case any of the women want to talk.Eman Elsayed, a mother of three originally from Egypt, said before she joined the workshop in 2020, she was “depressed, isolated and fed up” with her life in Leeds. But eventually, especially after joining Mafwa Theater’s associate artists program in 2021, she felt her life change.“Art, it’s a magic wand,” said Elsayed, who now has a paid job doing community outreach for the program. “But you need to believe, and you need to take the time to see what it will do.”Mafwa’s project is just one example of a larger trend — as more and more groups and individuals worldwide are using the arts to empower, unite and even help heal people who have suffered trauma, from war and natural disaster, or discrimination, poverty and displacement.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More
