How does one create something original?
Looking back at my creative process, I’ve felt that the most original things I ever made were during a time in my life when I had very little interaction with technology. When I was younger, I spent hours drawing and experimenting with anything that piqued my curiosity. I had a notebook called Ishika’s Creations, filled with everything from drawings to innovations I wanted to build. I was always thinking of something new. Where did this spark come from? Sometimes, my best ideas would appear out of thin air, as if from nowhere, without any specific trigger. It’s fascinating how that happens. Other times, my ideas would come from my personal experiences or observations of the world, especially nature. But interestingly, when I intentionally sit down to create, nothing happens—I end up reflecting instead of making something new.
The paradox is that while the internet gives me more ideas, they don’t feel as original. The more I consume, the more my creativity feels like it’s just a spin-off of something I’ve already seen. Right now, I’m in a phase where I’m consuming a lot, and now i feel dependent on consumption in order to fuel my creativity. And while I believe my curation and taste are quite refined, my ideas are still based on what already exists. They feel like they’re just one step beyond what’s out there—there’s nothing that feels like it’s coming from a deeper, more original place within me. Is it the feeling or the output that matters when it comes to original creation?
What does “original creation” really mean?
Here is how I define it: A creation is considered original if it reflects the essence of the creator—when it’s distinct and identifiable. Its something you really haven’t seen before. When you experience the work, you know who created it because it carries their signature style.
This personal style often comes from producing multiple pieces in the same vein. It’s through repetition and refinement that a creator’s unique voice becomes apparent.
Originality seems to be fading in our generation. We see more iterations of what's already been done, rather than groundbreaking, original creations. It makes me wonder: have we become too reliant on copying familiar frameworks, without infusing them with our own individuality?
What if someone’s memories were erased and they were handed a pen and paper, what would they create? What would they draw if they had no knowledge of the world? And even more intriguingly, what would a baby create if given a pen and paper—or a sound to replicate? Would that be true originality, untouched by external influences?
So how do we break this cycle? Do we even need to? How do we tap into a deeper sense of originality and avoid simply recycling existing ideas?
I always wondered how legends like AR Rahman, JK Rowling, Mozart, Van Gogh, Steve Jobs were able to create pieces of work so unique and ground breaking—how did they tap into such unique, unfiltered creativity? Mozart, for instance, was composing complex music at such a young age, almost as if he was born with this talent. Some say he carried it from a past life, tapping into his samskara—the impressions left by previous experiences. Could it be that the true creative geniuses we admire are drawing from something beyond this lifetime, a deeper well of creativity we don’t fully understand?
Steve Jobs' influence has permeated tech design to the point that many modern landing pages across tech companies look almost identical. The clean lines, minimalist aesthetics, and user-centered design that Apple pioneered have become the blueprint. What did he do that made Apple a big inspiration?
Jobs himself explained that he didn’t invent new concepts from scratch—he connected existing ideas in a way that felt innovative. In a 1995 Wired interview, he said:
Creativity is just connecting things. When you ask creative people how they did something, they feel a little guilty because they didn’t really do it, they just saw something. It seemed obvious to them after a while. That’s because they were able to connect experiences they’ve had and synthesize new things. And the reason they were able to do that was that they’ve had more experiences or they have thought more about their experiences than other people.
It was his personal touch—the way he synthesized and connected ideas—that made Apple’s designs stand out.
This leads to a deeper point in original creation. All this while I was obsessed with how does one create from nothing. But you can build on existing ideas and create something new by making it yours. True originality isn’t just in the source material but in the personal imprint that shapes it. You mix red and blue to create purple. Purple is still a distinct color, even though it’s a result of combining two familiar ones.
It seems like reaching that sense of internal originality requires finding your personal touch. While people often say, "From stillness comes creation," it’s not always obvious how that works. When I experience stillness, it feels empty. I wonder, where do creative thoughts come from in that silence? I haven’t fully grasped this yet. However, I’ve noticed that during meditation, random ideas or solutions to unresolved problems sometimes surface. It’s strange because meditation is meant to clear the mind, right? Yet, in those moments of stillness, ideas flood in. It’s almost as if your personal creativity finds its way in when the conscious effort to create is turned off.
Perhaps the answer lies in balance. Creativity is nurtured by inspiration, but it also requires space to breathe. To truly access originality, we need to allow ourselves moments of stillness—time away from constant consumption. Nature I find to be an amazing creativity catalyst. It’s in those moments, when the noise quiets down, that deeper ideas can surface. By intentionally disconnecting from external influences, even for a little while, we give our minds the chance to wander and create from a place that feels authentic and pure.
The key to originality might lie in the space between consuming and creating—letting inspiration inform your work without overwhelming it. Some people find their voice by imitating others before developing their own style, while others can create from a blank slate. Others, like Jobs, connect dots from what they consume, using their perspective to generate something new. What truly matters might not be the feeling of originality but the authenticity of the work—whether it reflects a genuine expression of yourself, regardless of where the inspiration came from. Original creation can never be fully replicated because it’s unique to the person who made it.