Twyla Tharp argues that a major success creates a more difficult creative situation than a failure. Success raises expectations and leaves the artist with the daunting question of "what now?" whereas failure provides a clearer, albeit painful, path forward to improve and try again.

Spontaneous innovation isn't a skill in itself; it's the result of being an expert in contemplation. The ability to quickly process, reflect, and find a new paradigm under pressure comes from a practiced ability to contemplate, not from structured innovation exercises.

While knowledge is valuable, choreographer Twyla Tharp argues that a creator's most difficult and essential work is "protecting but refining instinct." The challenge is to prevent intellectual understanding and external feedback from diluting the pure, immediate, and often correct, gut reactions that drive original work.

Creative resistance doesn't weaken with experience. It adapts, becoming more sophisticated. Early career self-doubt (“who am I?”) morphs into late-career pressure (“I have more to live up to”). The battle never ends; it just changes.

Imposing strict constraints on a creative process isn't a hindrance; it forces innovation in the remaining, more crucial variables like message and resonance. By limiting degrees of freedom, you are forced to excel in the areas that matter most, leading to more potent output.

Child prodigies excel at mastering existing knowledge, like playing a perfect Mozart sonata. To succeed as adults, they must transition to creation—writing their own sonata. This fundamental shift from rote skill to original thinking is where many prodigies falter because the standards for success change completely.

Experts often view problems through the narrow lens of their own discipline, a cognitive bias known as the "expertise trap" or Maslow's Law. This limits the tools and perspectives applied, leading to suboptimal solutions. The remedy is intentional collaboration with individuals who possess different functional toolkits.

As expertise develops, one can shift from rigid plans to relying on deep 'programming'—the sum of instincts and experience. This allows for adaptability in high-stakes situations, turning potential disasters into moments of authentic performance that a rehearsed script could never achieve.

Improving imagination is less like a painter adding to a blank canvas and more like a sculptor removing material. The primary task is to forget expected answers and consensus reality. This subtractive process uncovers the truly novel ideas that are otherwise obscured by convention.