When I was younger, art skills were meaningful and important. Filmmaking was too expensive for any but the elite; there was more demand than supply of “media.” Animation was drawn by hand, every frame. Even a short animated film required money in digits that blew my mind, and whole teams of “talent” and managers.
So when I figured out how to make animated movies on my own, I suddenly advanced to elite status. I could do for little money, by myself, what many huge overfunded studios couldn’t achieve. And before that, I drew. When my work made it to print, I got thrills such as I never experience today. When my first T-shirt design, “Leal School is high class,” was chosen for silkscreening, I nearly peed my pants. When my first comic strip was printed in the Daily Illini newspaper, I secreted more adrenaline than I could handle.
Less creative excitement comes to me these days. I did make my first round of “Recovery Gloves” this summer, and I was extremely excited to put the first ones on my hands and photograph them. I guess I still care, a bit.
The big change since my youth is that supply of “content” vastly exceeds demand. More writing, more art, more videos and music are made than anyone can consume. This has been enabled by tech, from “desktop publishing” (remember when it was unimaginably revolutionary?), to digital video editing, to phones — phones! — able to capture high-res everything, to AI.
The Attention Economy was coined a while ago and continues to be useful. Is my attention now a more valuable asset than my ability to create? Is that why I feel like I create so much less now? AI produces higher quality work than most humans. So what are we even for? Do robots even need human attention, or can they attend to themselves?
I am still a human being with a voice. I make art when I think something needs to exist in this world, and the only person who can make it so is me. Hence the gloves. Hence Sita Sings the Blues.
But plenty of other stuff can and does come into being without me. Pretty pictures don’t need me to exist. Articles don’t need me. Well, this one does, but it’s not that great. I’m not writing this to meet any demand, I’m writing it because my thoughts are bothering me and I’m trying to sort them out. That’s about the only thing that differentiates humans from AI right now, and maybe even that distinction will vanish.
Ah heck, let’s ask ChatGPT:
Me: You are an artist experiencing a creative block. You feel you were more creative 20 years ago, before the Internet and AI. Write an article exploring why recent advances in technology may have suppressed your creative drive.
ChatGPT:
The Tech Trap: How Internet and AI Innovations Have Stifled My Creative Spirit
As an artist, creativity is both my passion and my lifeblood. Yet, recently, I have found myself grappling with a persistent creative block. Reflecting on my artistic journey, I realize that I felt more creatively fulfilled 20 years ago, before the pervasive rise of the internet and artificial intelligence (AI). While these technological advancements have brought about tremendous benefits, they have also introduced challenges that can stifle the creative spirit.
The Overload of Information
One of the most profound changes brought about by the internet is the sheer volume of information available at our fingertips. Twenty years ago, inspiration was drawn from tangible experiences—visiting art galleries, reading books, and engaging in deep conversations. Today, the endless stream of online content can be overwhelming. The constant barrage of images, videos, and articles can dilute one’s unique artistic voice, leading to a sense of creative paralysis rather than inspiration.
The Pressure of Digital Perfection
The internet, coupled with AI, has created a culture of digital perfection. Social media platforms showcase polished, picture-perfect versions of art, often enhanced by AI tools. This can create unrealistic standards for artists, leading to self-doubt and a fear of not measuring up. Twenty years ago, the artistic process was more forgiving, allowing for mistakes and imperfections that were integral to growth and creativity. Now, the pressure to produce flawless work can inhibit the experimental and exploratory nature of art.
The Erosion of Deep Work
In the pre-internet and pre-AI era, creative work was often a solitary and deeply immersive process. Artists could lose themselves in their work without the distractions of notifications, emails, and social media. Today, the digital age has fragmented our attention spans, making it difficult to achieve the deep focus necessary for true creativity. The constant interruptions and the temptation to check our devices can prevent us from entering the state of flow where the most profound creative insights occur.
The Homogenization of Art
AI, with its reliance on vast datasets, tends to produce content that mirrors existing trends and styles. While this can lead to interesting combinations, it can also result in a homogenization of artistic expression. Twenty years ago, artists drew inspiration from a wide range of sources, leading to a diverse array of styles and perspectives. Now, the risk is that AI-generated art, based on similar datasets, may lack the originality and diversity that come from human experience and intuition.
The Shift from Creation to Curation
The digital age has shifted the focus from creation to curation. Artists now spend a significant amount of time curating their online presence, managing social media profiles, and engaging with their audience. While this has its benefits, it can detract from the actual process of creating art. Twenty years ago, artists could dedicate their time and energy solely to their craft without the distraction of maintaining an online persona.
The Devaluation of Effort and Skill
With AI’s ability to produce art quickly and effortlessly, there is a growing perception that artistic creation is less valuable if it can be replicated by a machine. This shift can be demoralizing for artists who invest considerable effort and skill into their work. Twenty years ago, the value of art was closely tied to the artist’s dedication and the unique human touch that went into each piece. Today, the line between human and machine-made art is increasingly blurred, leading to questions about the true value of artistic effort.
Finding a Balance in the Digital Age
Despite these challenges, it is possible to find a balance that allows for the preservation of deep, meaningful creativity. Here are some strategies for navigating the modern artistic landscape:
- Digital Detox: Regularly disconnecting from the internet can help reclaim uninterrupted time for creativity. This can involve setting aside specific hours or days where digital devices are put aside to focus solely on artistic work.
- Mindful Consumption: Being selective about the content consumed online can reduce overwhelm and allow for more profound inspiration. Curating a digital diet that includes high-quality, diverse sources of inspiration can help maintain a unique artistic voice.
- Embrace Imperfection: Recognize that mistakes and imperfections are a natural part of the creative process. Allowing for experimentation and accepting that not every piece needs to be perfect can foster a more open and innovative approach to art.
- Seek Offline Inspiration: Continue to engage with the physical world—visit galleries, attend workshops, and have face-to-face interactions with other artists. These experiences can provide fresh perspectives and break the cycle of digital dependency.
- Integrate Technology Thoughtfully: Use AI and digital tools to augment rather than replace the creative process. Embrace technology as a collaborator that can enhance creativity without overshadowing the human touch.
In conclusion, while the internet and AI have transformed the creative landscape in many ways, it is essential to navigate these changes thoughtfully. By finding a balance and reclaiming some of the practices from the pre-digital era, artists can overcome creative blocks and reignite the artistic spark that once burned so brightly.
For me, making unique, useful things, houses, furniture, hardscape, and clay stuff, is what lights my fire. Now that I’m retired from that and no one pays me for it, I find my spark burns dimmer. So my challenge is to find things that need making in my quiet, small ,happy life. I like your $100 dollar drawing idea. Your AI buddy has some good suggestions, i.e. put down the phone. Long rides help to clear the cobwebs. Any way you can tap into the Flow State of mind will do the trick. I think you are doing a great job of keeping the muse alive. Please keep it up. Thank you.
Jesus! That is incredible, intense, shocking, and informative on psychological and subconscious levels!
This dichotomy of AI or “human” is HIGHLY (deeply?) cognitively dissonant.
As a writer, I too am finding “creativity” difficult to actualize, as the scope of what is available is MASSIVE compared to what I am able to produce.
Is a drop of water happier when it ends up in the ocean or when it is separate from it?
Real artists are even more important when we’re drowning in garbage, like that chatgpt buzzfeed-summary. Technology makes it cheaper, but that just raises the bar for real meaningful expression. People seek authenticity and novelty. We need you to do what robots can’t. Concerns about weak-AI are trendy, so it had a glib response, but it’s not strong-AI, or without the philosophy jargon it’s nothing new. If you ask it what art to make, it wouldn’t suggest making apocalypse-iconography gloves to become a sassy hand-model fox, but maybe it will someday because you did it first.
We’re in a demotivational time. Maybe think about what you want people to think, or feel, or know, then a novel way to send that out. People might not buy it, just as the public isn’t buying “Stop Being Stupid And Doing Everything Wrong Lately: A Novel of Profane Ballads for Today by ninafan”, but I’m no artist.
The incredible irony is that, because you could not simply respect that others might not consent to having their life’s work “copied” (which many of us maintain is IP theft in the same way that stealing electricity from a neighbor still leaves one with electricity but, also, poorer) and because you were unwilling to find workarounds for being unable to license what felt like a must-have piece (as many other artists, including I, have done), you helped create the bedrock for the massive corporate theft that is currently putting many artists out of work. My belief is that you’ve overcomplicated a simple and fundamental issue of consent and outsourced your personal bad experience to punish all artists collectively. Libertarianism at its finest.
There are literally license clearance companies that exist and that could have helped you avoid the situation you encountered with the song you used for your movie. This is also what music supervisors do for a living. Rather than simply accept that you made a mistake, all professional artists who want to retain rights over how their work is used are now being forced to suffer because of folks like you who rationalize a strange entitlement to others’ creative labor. Do you generally have a difficult time admitting when you are wrong and offering simple apologies?
I’m not trying to be mean and genuinely considered being less straightforward and trying to promote introspection by quoting your Nietsche quote about monsters back at you. But I don’t think you’re a monster. Just probably, as with most libertarians, more motivated by personal interests than you realize.
Sure, someone will say artists are also motivated by personal interests. It seems obvious to me that the interests of those who put a great deal of emotional and intellectual labor into and pour a great deal of resources into creating art should far outweigh the interests of those who want to exploit their works.
Wow Mirra, you only seem vaguely familiar with Nina Paley’s work and ideas. Nina documented her experiences with clearance companies; I suggest viewing her TED Talk “Copyright Is Brain Damage” on it, as well as a quick watch of “Copying Is Not Theft”. What you’re calling “IP” is quite silly, for example I don’t think Annette Hanshaw is as violated and suffering as you say by the use of her century-old music in Sita Sings The Blues. Your comment was very tangential to the original blog post (Nina didn’t mention Nietzsche or monsters?), so if you aren’t AI yourself, then I believe you connected copying with the chatgpt quote, and I also suggest watching “All Creative Work Is Derivative”, as AI is deriving new works (of something) from art. If you watch these, even if they don’t change your mind, at worst you’ll have a better understanding of what you’re trying to argue against, but at best they might inspire you.
Nina Paley as a libertarian…maybe! I’ve always seen her as embracing a shared communal culture, more left-leaning egalitarianism, but I’d love to see her as a libertarian the way you do. Interesting…but you might have meant “liberal”, as in copying liberally, and liber (freedom) is the foundation of both, or maybe some intellectual-anarchy. I adore your idea of Nina’s art having created the bedrock for a massive societal shift toward freedom, but I might be a fan of hers.
Yes I agree with Ninafan. Nina Paley’s brilliance in interpreting the Pointer Sister’s You Gotta Believe by weaving it into her Goddess animation is breathtaking genius and so inspiring to other artists and Goddess worshippers. Every woman is a goddess, we can be so fulfilled by worshipping our own goddess self. Artists all celebrate other artists in our work. Picasso even commented on his own recycling of other people’s artistic images, calling it cannibalising. Nina Paley’s incredibly generous sharing of her artistry, using already existing music, doesn’t steal from it or diminish it, she adds another layer of nuanced interpretation to it. When I finally get around to self publishing my Poemography and my legal-historical expose of racially discriminatory Australian legislation, I will be delighted if people want to copy, use and share it. The ultimate compliment, if people are inspired by your creativity and want to use it to enhance their own lives!
Take care where you move to, Nina
Very insightful essay, Nina. Thanks for your perspective. I’ve been asking myself, “What happened to my creativity?” ever since I was a teenager, though—long before the intrusion of the Internet and the iPhone. Speaking only for myself, I think my creativity has been so precious to me that I was always afraid it would be taken. I have this natural mindset that nothing good ever lasts. In reality, though, I’ve been living this existential dread for 50 years. Projects come, projects go, and the feeling I’m being creative ebbs and flows with that. The only thing that remains constant is my neurosis.