Maya Angelou and Thomas Edison have given me unexpected permission. One of their secrets — quickly becoming mine — is to not tidy up so much.

“Who in their right mind would work in such conditions???” I often think to myself… And then that very, messy environment delivers an unexpected connection, and I remember: Picasso, Angelou, and me.

The rules for what smart people are supposed to do are often at odds with what those same smart people do to court a breakthrough. What gives?

Maya Angelou and Thomas Edison gave me permission to keep my space messy. It’s not unlike one of those detective whodunits, every available surface covered in conspiracies. If you peeked into my garage, you’d probably think, “I hope he finds the killer…”