Michael writes: "when you encounter a painting or song or other creation that you cannot imagine creating yourself, you are looking at something that you do not know how to start."
When I was an unknowingly benighted youth, I could ostensibly "start" works in a number of genres. For example, I could invent a melodic line for my symphony, and a passable first line or two of a poem. But I lacked the gifts necessary to the full execution. I could not hear in my ear any complex orchestration. I could fuzzily picture the attitude and posture of a figure I wanted to draw, but I could not, after starting, push beyond the fuzziness to specificity, except in a mechanical, imitative way. (I've confessed here before that I was the "class artist" in high school -- with just about zero visually creative talent.) I would not protest if you insisted that what I did was not "starting" at all, but it felt like starting at the time.
