Lasers slicing chaos...

The boiling, swirling soup of creative chaos. It's an eternal place. A confusing place. A hellish place. A place of infinite potential. A place of impossible progress. The romantic image of the genius magician who intoxicated by cosmic input miraculously orchestrates masterful worldly output. Ta Da!

In contrast to all that magnificent teen hippie shit, I was struck by Ingmar Bergman's assessment of the creative process in his autobiography The Magic Lantern.

"My rehearsals are operations in premises equipped for the purpose, where self-discipline, cleanliness, light, and quiet prevail. It is proper work, not a place for private therapy between producer and actor... I want calm, order, and friendliness. Only in that way can we approach a limitless world."