M: Are you from England
W: No, I’m from America.How about you
M: I live here in Paris.but I’m not French.I’m from Australia.
W: Are you a student
M: No.I’m a news reporter for a TV station.
W: Wow, that’s a good iob.
[听力原文]6-7
W: Hello, Old England Restaurant. Can I help you
M: Yes. I’ d like to book a table for tonight.
W: Yes, sir. What time
M: Eight O’clock.
W: Certainly. For how many people
M: Ten of us.
W: What’ s your name please, sir
M: John Smith.
M: Ok, Mr Smith. That will be all right.
W: Thank you.
Prevailing mythology has it that creativity is the exclusive domain of artists, scientists, and inventors—a giftedness not available to ordinary people going about the business of daily life. Partly as a result, ordinary people often hold the creative person in awe, finding little gradation in genius. It’s either the Sistine Chapel ceiling or nothing.
Our awe of creativity is like a dragon that blocks the gate to our personal creativity. We’ve created this dragon to protect ourselves from something worse: the possibility that we might really go for it, do the very utmost we can do—and find people out there who still don’t think it’s good enough and reject not only what we’ve done, but us as individuals.
What we need to understand is that by refusing to risk being creative at less than genius levels, we are already rejecting ourselves, passing judgment without evidence. While that judgment mechanism may have served to prot
我来回答: