Fakery and the Creative Impulse
The times they are a-changin'...
Dear Reader;
A lovely friend shared this today, and when I saw it, my first thought was, is it real or AI generated.
Either way, it's a very beautiful image. But if this were made by human hands, that is a remarkable thing. I am picturing the transporting of the stones to the beach. The consideration of the timing of the tides. The patience required to achieve such perfection, and the miraculous way that no footprints are visible in the sand. Then the framing of the photograph. The settings on the camera to achieve the shine of the water, the light of the sun. Such a creation is true art, the inspiration, time, dedication and talent which are all hallmarks of human grace.
If, on the other hand, this was AI generated, it probably took fifteen minutes to create, all without going anywhere near the natural world. Maybe without even getting out of bed. There was no wind, no water, no feel of the cool stones upon the hand, only a photo that implies the suggestion of the hard work of making art. Just imagery. All pretend.
Ironically, no heart.
It's like one of those blow up Santas on someone's front lawn, collapsed on the day after Christmas. Nothing but hot air. No substance, just the echo of a make-believe fantasy, meant to make us happy, until we grow up.
And here's the kicker. Maybe it was made by human hands, but because it looks a little too perfect, I am inclined to doubt.
This to me is the inherent tragedy of AI. Never again will we be able to know if art is real, or a lie. If it emerged from someone's time, energy and craft, or from a program of pretend. Is there a real person behind that online dating profile, a sentient being with a warm hand to hold, a human history to share, eyes that reflect a soul. Or is it just a bot, all fakery designed to confuse and extort emotion from a lonely soul.
A friend who is an experienced visual artist and educator had a look at the photo. Totally AI, was her response.
This is the junk food of the creative impulse. All salt and sugar and cheap oils so it can be churned out to the folks who won't take the time to read the label, or maybe they just don't care anymore. If it tastes good, that's enough. If it’s flawed, put a filter on it. If it's pretty, who cares if it's real.
My mother used to say, I'm glad I'm old. I don't think I am made for what the world has become. That was many years ago. Can't imagine what she would think now.
much love, Adi