AI Thoughts Generated by a Human

On Love of Process

New work!

At the urging of a few people (ahem, Mike Cina), I’ve decided to make an attempt to write more frequently in this new year. (One sentence in and I’m already hedging with language—my New Year’s resolutions tend to fizzle but I've always been a strong starter. I'm twelve lessons in on duo lingo and want to wish you all  おはよう.)

Without digressing into Old Man Yells at Cloud, I have some thoughts on AI art. I’ve read quite a bit from both sides of the debate on its use and whether or not it “counts” as art or will replace artists. I’m largely uninterested in these conversations. AI art will not replace artists . . . but it will certainly make it harder for new artists to compete. I don’t think it’s going anywhere, and yes, of course, I wish it asked artists for consent before training on their works. All that said: I haven’t yet seen my chief concern addressed and I want to yell at a few clouds.  

Art is not a final product. You, the viewer, get the final product to enjoy, experience, purchase, or live with in your mind. I don't share the same experiences with my work as a viewer. Mine is primarily about the part that I get to keep—the process. The final product is an artifact / residue of a process that has occurred. A figuring has taken place and the art is the evidence.  It is art / work.

Imagine a jungle behind my studio. Some days I take a machete and clear brush . . . and I do this for years. There is no path, and it takes time to clear it. I’ve got tools, techniques, and people I carry with me for help. I’m often lost, and only through working can I find myself in a new place. Sometimes I clear a path to a canyon and then I have to find a path across, and that takes new skills, techniques, and ideas. I’m constantly figuring things out, falling down traps and going the “wrong way” (a lot)—and, once in a while, I get to a really nice waterfall and take something from there, maybe a photograph or rock, and I bring it back to share.  Then I go back to that waterfall . . . and figure out a way down from there. The process is arduous and rewarding.  

I love figuring things out and making things. That’s all I want to do.  

Matt, photographed in the jungle.

AI is cool and cutting edge but I’m not interested in cool. No part of this culture told me to fold paper. I don’t believe the cutting edge is always the sharpest.

The AI debate misses this crucial point for me. I don’t want to hit a button and have my work—or a nightmare version of it—come out.  If I could tap in, Matrix-style, and absorb a fighting style that would be one thing, but kicking someone’s ass and actually learning Kung Fu are different.  I cannot imagine outsourcing my process to a machine. I do not want to trade in my experience of making art for a facsimile of an “artwork.” 

I do not want this for young artists either. It’s tempting, but this shortcut presupposes that the finished product is the only important part. That works for capitalism, and for the people training AI software—not for artists. You will not convince me that prompt generation and years of investigation are the same.

The ONLY thing that matters is love of process. It’s not the fame (ha), the money (haha), or the recognition that keeps people going. It is the love of being in the studio working that keeps a practice alive.

More soon—probably; さようなら—and best wishes,
Matt