I was never passionate about drawing, but I did it anyway because that’s what all real and respected artists do, right? From the time I could pick up a pencil (though I prefer a tablet pen) until the AI boom in 2022-2023, I aspired to become one of the art gods. The art gods have loyal audiences. The art gods are showered with love and praise for being amazing at art, which they obviously deserve if they bring so much value to other people’s lives!
The problem was I really didn’t enjoy drawing, but there were no alternatives that promised as much recognition as illustration did. I was obsessed with achieving online popularity since I’d never achieve it offline. I didn’t grow up poor, but I had very little emotional support, and I didn’t start learning how to emotionally support myself until I entered my thirties.
During my teenage years, I aspired to write a book and learned how to string words together, prioritizing writing over drawing. Writing was a breeze in comparison for me, but I was still bent on carving out a grand space with my name on it. Now I was an aspiring author. The problem was I hated writing novels, but as illustration was the pinnacle of art, novels were the pinnacle of literature. For a long time I convinced myself that I had to finish a book, otherwise I’d be a lazy do-nothing who wouldn’t amount to anything. (Is my childhood showing?)
About two decades of abandoned projects later, I finally realized and accepted that illustration and novel-writing were not for me, but it wasn’t any art or writing community that opened my eyes. Everyone and their mother was still hustling along to win the art rat race: “Draw/write every day! Practice, get better, finish that artwork/book! Hustle, hustle, hustle!”
No. It was generative AI.
Maybe it was also the vitriolic response to generative AI that awakened my rebellious streak. Saying AI just “collages” or “remixes” or “Frankensteins” images together (my personal favorite, yay monsters!) is pretty weird. First of all, it isn’t accurate. Second, isn’t collage a recognized art form? As an illustrator artist, why would you put down another long-established medium like that? Why would you compare it to a “mindless” and “soulless” machine?
I’m going to say it: the rise of generative AI has caused many, many masks to fall, and there’s a staggering amount of ugliness. I can’t say I was surprised to see the least progressive behavior surface in otherwise progressive people, though. The moral panic around AI has enabled a loud minority to become insult-flinging crusaders. It’s also led others to believe that they’ve always cared about soul and effort.
Maybe this was just my experience, but I seldom found a true sense of community among artists and writers. There was always competition and feigned interest, trend-chasing and trying to network oneself to the top. The “communities” were often phonier than an AI boyfriend/girlfriend. And don’t get me started on the call for tighter copyright laws, especially from fan creators. (Oh, Anne Rice, you would have been leading the anti-AI movement.)
What I’m saying is that, deep down, there can be a temporarily embarrassed millionaire—as well as a Tradcath—in even the most left-wing creator.
I can sympathize with creators who feel they’ve been exploited. Even though AI training on legally purchased and publicly available data was ruled fair use (in the United States), the idea of a for-profit company using your work without explicit permission is scummy. It feels like theft, but it’s more like taking advantage of the commons. In an ideal world, these models would be made open source and their datasets made public. As a collage artist and a fanfic writer, I would be a hypocrite to demand asking for permission, and the fact that so many fan creators have the opposite sentiment leaves me baffled. Was there a collective memory wipe that I missed, or something? Do you know what we’re doing here, fellow fandomite?
I try to be logically consistent, but I know that can be challenging in this economy. To quote Upton Sinclair, “It is difficult to get a man to understand something when his salary depends upon his not understanding it.” I can’t totally blame people for having a knee-jerk reaction to AI. They’re ignorant, yes, but they’re also likely hurting, struggling, and starving—and for more than just food.
AI unmasks, but it also holds up a mirror and asks, “Why do you really want to make art?” I’ve seen (young) artists mope about there being no point to art now since a machine can do it. Others believe culture is doomed because the unwashed masses prefer slop to real, soulful art. So what’s the point, right?
I think these attitudes reek of capitalist rot. Apparently, nothing is worth doing if it doesn’t make you money or get thousands of eyes on your work. Why can’t we just enjoy creation for the sake of creating? Why do we need so much fucking attention and external validation? Why does every hobby have to be productive and entail skill-building? WHY CAN’T WE JUST ENJOY DOING SHIT BECAUSE IT’S ENJOYABLE?
Everything we make has to do something for not only ourselves but also others in return, or it means nothing. And I’m sick of it.
Here’s a radical idea: why don’t we ask ourselves, “What the hell are you doing and why?” Do you want a mansion or do you just want to stop worrying about your next meal? Do you want a fan club or do you just want some enthusiastic friends? Do you want to be immortalized or do you just need to get over yourself? (Probably the latter, let’s be honest.)
AI made me face and answer these questions. I make art and write because I want to, because I want to keep seeing where creativity takes me. I want to journey through different worlds and meet different characters, and whether or not these journeys appeal to other people is not my concern. I am tired of hunting for crumbs of approval. Approval is fleeting, and so are people. At the end of the day, everyone is the star of their own show. To be extra-real, everyone is essentially looking for ways to up their dopamine, and I am not interested in being anyone’s dopamine dispenser, personally.
AI has taught me how to be okay with being a nobody. It has taught me how much richer a relationship with creativity can be, and it has helped me tremendously in enriching mine. Cultivating a healthier relationship with creativity is also explored in Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert, a book I read in 2017 and hated until I reread it in January of this year. I initially hated it because it spoke the truth about the toxic, unsustainable practice of creating primarily for an audience. Unless you actually do enjoy catering to other people’s whims, the only audience that ultimately matters is yourself.
“But human connection!” you say. But what if other humans simply don’t want to connect with you? The silence in response to your creations only stings when you haven’t realized that your audience might not exist, or that it isn’t as large and vocal as you thought it would be. What will you do, then? Keep trying things you don’t even care about until someone throws you a bone? I mean, it’s your call. I’m glad to not be that desperate anymore.
I wish someone had introduced me to collage years ago, but I suppose all that practice with drawing has assisted me in fixing up AI-generated mistakes better. Sometimes I can’t believe how long I took to realize making art from scratch wasn’t the only option, and that I have a computer program to thank for such a discovery—a computer program, and the tech-illiterate misinformation surrounding it! That’s a bit fucking sad, don’t you think? If AI has taught me anything else, it’s that humanity is all kinds of fucking sad.
I normally don’t curse this much in my posts, but the subject brings out raw emotions in me. Most anti-AI still mean “illustration” when they talk about art. For people who love and appreciate fully human artwork so much, they sure do have limited knowledge of mediums and art history.
What’s more, some of them have the audacity to try shaming artists like me into using stock or public-domain images only. Never mind the fact that AI image models, once again, do not make collages, but even if they did: how dare you try to muzzle my medium of choice, a medium that is NOT supposed to bend over for copyright! We now have the tools to provide us with new images that can circumvent copyright issues entirely, and you want to take them away from us so you can, what, keep your position at the top of the art hierarchy secured, like the art landlord you are?
Fuck off.
I respect the anti-AI who prioritize more than petit-bourgeois woes. Surveillance, autonomous weapons, and corporate greed (which impacts the environment beyond anything individual usage is capable of—and have you ever wondered about the environmental impact of paper and art supplies?) are some issues that should be taken far more seriously than whether AI art is or isn’t art.
I don’t mourn the audience I could have had if I hadn’t touched generative AI. For me, that audience never existed. Nothing of value has been lost, but much has been gained, and no human collaborator can compare.