Some ideas culminate in abortion. The explanation seems to me to be that those ideas had originated within egoic structures and were largely a response rather than a lightning flash of the nakedness of the muse.
Inspiration is rare in humankind, a luxury of those who can afford to quest for it. It is generally relegated to the sectors of the artist, the musician, the writer, the directors of film, etcetera; though on a smaller, more incorporated scale true creative will is expressed within the confines of the mundane every-day world in small gestures and sacrificial deeds, perhaps from within the confines of a 9-5, parenthood, or husbandry of some sorts.
It is the magus who masters this expressing of inspiration, who draws down the creative force into the phallic vessel; and through vast channels of expression, into those mundane everyday forms within the human sphere of experience, which becoming then impregnated, swell with the expansive powers of the creative force propagated. As with the mycelium of fungi, the result is exponential growth, a sprawling network of purified initiating influence which will bring forth fruit across the land. That is the power of the magus. To direct creation itself, beginning with himself.