Consider this notion: “Nothing new is really created. The person is remembering something, or he is building on prior knowledge by adding a next ‘logical’ step in a long historical process.”
Why make these assertions?
Because if a person were actually creating something new, where did it come from? It couldn’t come from “nowhere.” It must have already been “there,” in some sense.
That may be the majority opinion, but NO, that’s not the case. A PERSON CAN AND DOES CREATE SOMETHING NEW. IT COMES FROM HIM, FROM HIS IMAGINATION.
And imagination is not a thing. It isn’t a gland or an organ or a section of wiring in the brain. It’s not made of matter. It’s a quality, a non-material quality. So in that sense, yes, an individual DOES create from nothing.
Remembering and adding a step to established prior knowledge may well be part of the process of creating in some cases, but in EVERY case there is a NEWNESS that occurs, that is invented. It cannot be explained by claiming it was “already there.”
This irritates scientists and materialists to the nth degree. So they ignore it. They pretend they understand everything about imagination. They don’t have a clue.
In fact, the deeper you explore the concept of freedom, the more you realize that creating something new, and creating that occurs outside a tight chain of prior cause and effect, are very much a part of what freedom means. Understanding these factors should be liberating.
There are several other phenomena that are closely related to “creating from nothing.” They are spontaneous insight and spontaneous invention. They occur in a flash, in the moment. They can’t be reduced to “logical implications in a chain of cause and effect.” They can’t be reduced at all.
And then there is this—I’ll refer to it through an experience I had in 1963, when I was living and painting in a small studio in Los Angeles. One night I was sitting at my table staring at a blank sheet of paper. I had a pencil in my hand. Suddenly, my mind was empty and crystalline. I knew in my bones, as clearly as I knew I was sitting there, that I had unlimited choices. There was no boundary on what I could draw. I was ecstatic. I made a shape on the paper. The immediate novelty of it was overwhelmingly joyous. I kept making shapes on the paper. The emerging drawing held, for me, the core of what I needed to know about life: every moment could be marvelously unhindered and free. I was always on the cusp of being able to choose a future; and being in that position, in the moment, was an experience of unrivaled beauty. Never again would I think of freedom in a dry clinical way.