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If the soul within is more real
Than the outer world, as you,
philosopher, pretend
Why then is it the outer world
that is offered to me as the model
of reality?
— Fernando Pessoa
Poèmes Païens: de Alberto Caeiro et de Ricardo Reis Paris: Bougois 1989
For many years I have been attempting to capture a glimpse into the mysterious origins of creative expression, both by exploring the impact upon myself of certain creative works, and by studying the creative process and its inhibitions in my analysands. Whether the medium be writing; painting; sculpture; music; the performing arts; scientific and intellectual creativity; or innovation in the world of politics, business, and industrial invention; there is an enigmatic dimension to creative activity that evades our comprehension.
Freud himself searched constantly for the secrets of creativity. In an essay on “Creative Writers and Day Dreaming” (Freud, /1961), he asks, “From what sources does that strange being [the creative writer] draw his material?” He replies that a creative writer behaves like a child at play in that he creates a world of his own. He states that “[the child] creates a world of phantasy which he takes very seriously… [and] invests with large amounts of emotion.” However, Freud goes on to say, “as people grow up they cease to play [and furthermore the adult] knows that he is expected not to go on playing or phantasying any longer.” Later in the same essay he proclaims, “We may lay it down that a happy person never phantasies, only an unsatisfied one.” This somewhat critical attitude to fantasy life in adulthood