So, he who’s crea­tiv­ity is un­folded has power over what is yet un­heard, then over what is heard, and he has power over the unseen be­cause he makes it visi­ble, and power over all that could be touched and could be felt: and the art of cook­ing is open to him, as is the ful­fil­ment of the gourmet; and he is free to choose whether to smell at a tank truck or to inhale the fragrance of roses.
Not so the dreamer whose self is overrun by the events in his world of thoughts.

This dis­tin­guishes the minds of those who are truly crea­tive from those of somnambulant dreamers in the arts.

As surely as a nor­mal think­ing per­son pre­fers the fragrance of the jasmine flower to the smell of terpentine, the crea­tive, cul­ti­vated man will pre­fer the beau­ti­ful to the ugly. And from this we can con­clude:

When­ever some­one cre­ates some­thing truly beau­ti­ful it is rather cer­tain that, in the wak­ing state, he con­sciously rules his in­ner di­men­sion of crea­tiv­ity and is there­fore also a pow­er­ful or­gan­izer of his own great life – an ex­ample for oth­ers.

When­ever some­one cre­ates some­thing ugly, then, whathever the pre­text may be, he cre­ates from the lack of con­trol of a dreamer; be­cause, as in the case of a dreamer, his self – unprac­tised in crea­tiv­ity – can­not de­ter­mine what it dreams and often enough has to put up with the ugly when it spreads in his mind.

The in­ner world of the dreamer is not freely or­gan­ized by his self – which ex­plains the chaos of the dream­ing state of con­scious­ness.
And if one pro­jects one’s “day-dream­ing” con­fu­sion into the sur­round­ings, af­ter some time of ac­tiv­ity, the outer dis­or­der of one’s en­vi­ron­ment will match the in­ner chaos of one’s dreams.

Such an ef­fect is in­deed re­ac­tionary – mechanistic; only fumbled out from memo­ries – with­out the mighty crea­tive or­ga­niz­ing hand of the in­tel­lect ruled by the self-aware­ness.