*Question*
What is creativity? How de we define creativity? Where does creativity come from? How philosophical is the notion of creativity? Is everyone's 'creativity' different? Or is it an ill conceived, simplified term that is used to describe a very specific series of neuronal & bodily reactions to certain stimuli? These are all the questions I've been thinking (and googling, and youtubing) since beginning this Capturing Creativity studio* and I have found some answers or maybe I've just found more questions: Creativity is generally defined as the ability to make new things, or come up with new ideas, it's an ability to think outside the box, to see unique solutions and employ them in inventive ways. In this sense creativity is not always utilised when being 'creative', as to be creative is simply defined as the ability to make or produce something. However I guess that depends on your definition of creative, how different, unique, special, once off, un-influenced does something have to be, to be classified as creative? This is where creativity get's tricky. It's all well and good to be like oh this is what creativity is, so it's easy to investigate it, but what if you don't define that as being creative, maybe that was just following a formula, a somewhat inspired formula, but maybe it is just a formula. Creativity to most people seems to be a random mix of once off genius combined with solid skill and hard work and for us humans these percentages are unique to us. Maybe creativity to you is 90% unique idea, 5% skill and 5% hard work. Maybe creativity to you is 40% unique idea, 50% skill and 10% hard work. Maybe for you creativity doesn't have to involve any hard work at all. For me when it comes to creativity I'm most interested in that unique idea portion; where does that unique idea come from? Is it simply random? Is it a gift from the gods? Is our unique idea just a product of a lot of subconscious effort, only made aware to us in the sense of a 'random' idea? Have we been influenced by something, processed it... What is probably true of the author of the article? - He/she is a philosopher - He/she is a creative person - not enough information - He/she is a writer
**Answer**
He/she is a creative person

*Question*
It was hot. The smell of blood already hung heavy in the air. The white sands, imported from the far west mountains of limestone, sucked up the fire of the huge red sun. It was always hot in the south desert. Even in the deep of night the stones of Gazu Kadem kept the city warm. Now, at mid-day, it was at its hottest. A quarter of a million people at the arena didn't make it any cooler. The merchants, nobles, and the slaves lucky enough to attend had waited outside Dan Trex's arena for days. They knew the value of entertainment in such a dark world. They wore cowls to protect themselves from the sun as they waited. Entire businesses thrived on the forced mercantile of the captive audience. Food went for thrice its cost to those waiting near the entrance. Water went for five times as much. The arena was as old as the city, built in the days of the old empire for a king now long forgotten. The octagonal arena was a machine, an engine that built warriors out of the raw material of flesh, blood, and steel. Now, thousands of years later, it still served that purpose. The machine had built Dan Trex's army, half a million of the most ruthless and well trained soldiers to ever walk the planet. While one hundred and fifty thousand civilians and slaves got drunk, gambled, shat, fucked, and slept on the stone steps; one hundred thousand of his men sat in silence wearing black and bronze and watching him as Trex walked out into the arena alone and unhelmed. His soldiers watched the games in silence. They made not a sound when twelve of the most beautiful girls to walk on small bare feet were raped and flayed apart by dark priests in a ritual to Gazu Kadem's god-king, Danken Ovelde. They studied the three-horned desert bull as it gored five slaves. They watched the spear technique of four slave armies as they warred in a single great battle. They watched blades of silver spray fans of red blood into the air. They watched vital organs spill onto the white sands. They heard men and women scream as life left them. They... why were civilians and slaves drinking? - because they got chance - because they longed for it in dark world - not enough information - because they saw beer
**Answer**
because they longed for it in dark world

*Question*
We all present these glossy lives to the world; coffee cups presented to dewy sunrises, champagne in airport lounges, luxurious restaurants that cost more than they should and share the blue skies days of exploration. I'm as guilty as anyone. But, what about behind those scenes? Those days where the wind is so strong you can't instastory for talking (I'm looking at you Cornwall), when travel mistakes happen (like in Vienna where I accidentally booked our trip a day short) or when everyone asks you what your next trip will be and you sheepishly have to answer 'er, not sure'. So I thought I'd get a few things off my chest, and confess a few of the reasons why I probably shouldn't be calling myself a travel blogger. And yes, these are all very much first world problems. 1. I hate photographs of myself. Ironic, no? Especially when one of the first rules of blogging is all about the cult of personality. I just don't like them. I wish I did, but there are few times that I fancy a photo and even less when I like the result. 2. We nip into a MacDonalds at least once every trip. It has now become a tradition between nicer restaurants to nip in and order a Big Mac and fries at some point of our trip but especially in Europe for some reason. Why do their MacDonalds meals taste better? 3. Pastels aren't really my shade. Again, I wish I could be super girly, twirling in gossamer skirts painted in spring shades but I'm just not. My colour palette is decidedly autumnal/jewel hued and usually sticks to a scarf draped around my neck in a hopefully fashionable manner. And I'm totally ok with that. 4. I once travelled all the way to New Zealand and back (stopping in 3 countries enroute) without a lens cap on my brand new, fairly expensive camera. This is in no way a #humblebrag about the trip, but a comment on how impractical I can be and how careful I also am. I lovingly wrapped my camera in a soft scarf every day for 3 weeks, growled under my breath at anyone who looked like they might jostle me and at one point found... How is the author probably able to travel so often? - The author has an actual career that pays for the trips and only blogs about her travels when she gets time off - The author makes money from her travel blog to travel to more places - The author reads about people's travels and writes her own impression of their travels in her blog - not enough information
**Answer**
The author makes money from her travel blog to travel to more places