Creativity is the most elusive beast in the forest, Sammy. The only indication of its very existance could be something as seemingly insignificant as a shard of broken bracken, or some fresh claw marks upon the side of a frosty willow tree.
You could ramble through the desolate undergrowth for months and never be graced by its scarce beauties. In fact, you could probably get so fed up looking for the creature, you may decide to pack up your camping stove and head back to the vibrant chaotic sprawl of the big city. There you could re-emerge yourself in the tedious slendor of flipping potential heart attacks at the local fast death diner and briefly give up all hope of find that creative phantom. After half an hour though, you turn around and the creature is cowering on the floor behind you, licking partly hydrogenated vegetable oil from the side of the deep fat fryer. How this creature looks, thinks, sounds, moves, behaves, smells, or even tastes, is up to you.
Now you can see it, find your own voice. The moral of this story is not found in the solice of easy solutions, Sammy.