When Zorana Ivcevic Pringle first entered academia as an undergraduate, she wanted to “study interesting people.” It’s not a scientific term, of course—and it carries a value judgment, which isn’t exactly scientific either. But that curiosity led her toward a deeper exploration of creativity: “I became interested in describing what creative people are like and understanding the complexity of a creative personality,” she explains. “They seem to embody contradictions—traits that don’t usually coexist in most people. That contrast draws your attention to something really important.”
In her research, Zorana frames creativity around strength and vulnerability, focusing on how both personality traits and mental processes contribute to creative acts or ideas. She began exploring what she calls “self-regulation in creativity”—essentially, the question: *How do you make yourself create?* How do you take an idea and turn it into something real?
Creativity is often associated with inspiration and joy—but it also includes moments of intense difficulty. As Zorana says, “Nothing you ever try works out right away.” There’s disappointment, frustration, overwhelm, and stress. The creative process is full of obstacles. Yet, learning to accept and manage that discomfort is part of what makes creativity possible. And for her, that struggle is fascinating.
She’s particularly motivated by gaps in knowledge—the unanswered questions that frustrate her enough to want to investigate them. “Why hasn’t this been asked?” she wonders. Then she dives in, trying to figure out how to bring an idea into reality.
Zorana often opens her talks with a *New Yorker* cartoon showing an Upper East Side cocktail party. Someone remarks, “Did you know it was Harry who invented the daiquiri? He just never did anything with it.” The audience laughs because we all know a “Harry”—someone who has great ideas but doesn’t act on them. This reflects a common truth: many people don’t follow through on their ideas. And yet, popular portrayals of the creative process often fail to show its messy, nonlinear nature.
One of her favorite books is *What Do You Do with an Idea?* by Kobi Yamada. It captures the creative journey beautifully—starting with ignoring an idea, then nurturing it, letting it grow alongside you. It’s rare to see such an honest depiction of the process in mainstream media, and she appreciates it deeply.
There’s a common myth that creativity requires fearlessness—that you must be comfortable with risk and uncertainty. But Zorana disagrees. “I’m not fearless,” she admits. “I came across a quote from Georgia O’Keeffe once: ‘I’ve been absolutely terrified every moment of my life—and I’ve never let it keep me from doing a single thing I wanted to do.’ That resonated with me. You don’t have to be fearless to create—you just need the desire, the identity, and the willingness to sit with discomfort. Accepting that discomfort can actually be empowering.”
Creativity, she believes, is not something you’re simply born with. While some people may find certain aspects of creativity easier than others, the skills, attitudes, and mindsets behind creativity can be learned. “We now have evidence that creativity can be developed,” she says. “It’s not a fixed trait—it’s a constellation of abilities and approaches that can be nurtured.”
In her book, Zorana interviewed Ben Silbermann, the founder of Pinterest. What stood out to her was his deep understanding of the social dimension of creativity. For example, if you're in Silicon Valley and thinking about starting a company, you’re surrounded by people talking about startups—in bars, at parties, everywhere. Creativity doesn’t happen in isolation. Even when it feels like a solo effort, it’s shaped by context, community, and environment.
One major misconception about creativity is the belief that the first idea is the best one. In fact, the opposite is often true. First ideas tend to be conventional, close to what already exists. We mistakenly associate creativity with spontaneous insight, as if it’s a feeling that suddenly strikes us. But real creativity comes from deliberate work, exploration, and iteration—not just waiting for inspiration.
Another harmful stereotype is the link between creativity and genius. When we hear “creativity,” we think of Einstein, Monet, Steve Jobs—people who seem extraordinary. And when we compare ourselves to them, we might feel ordinary. But this mindset suggests that creativity is innate, reserved for a few special individuals. That’s misleading and discouraging, especially in education, where well-meaning attempts to inspire students can unintentionally limit them.
Creativity also thrives under constraints, not total freedom. The mind starts with what’s familiar—what you’ve done before. But by definition, that’s not original. So limitations force us to go beyond the obvious. Even artists, often seen as the epitome of free-spirited creators, work within constraints—specific materials, techniques, or formats.
Finally, Zorana knows firsthand that creative blocks don’t mean you’re incapable. They’re part of the process. While writing her book, she got stuck on a chapter about getting stuck. After staring at the same draft for days without progress, she decided to physically cut up the pages and rearrange them on the floor. It helped her see the material differently and move forward. Sometimes, literally reorganizing your thoughts can unlock new insights.
Ultimately, creativity is not magic. It’s not reserved for geniuses or fearless visionaries. It’s a process—one that involves struggle, persistence, and the willingness to keep going even when things aren’t working. And anyone, with practice and support, can learn to navigate it.