What Is Happening To My Creativity?

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.

“Recovery Gloves”

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:

  1. 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.
  2. 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.
  3. 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.
  4. 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.
  5. 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.

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My Last Hospital-Administered Skyrizi Infusion

$320-per-minute infusion in progress (it takes just over an hour).

What does one wear to a $20,000-a-dose drug infusion? At least one person suggested a tiara and evening gown.

Arriving at the hospital

One Skyrizi intravenous infusion dose is 600mg, or 2.1164 .21164 ounces. At $20,000 per dose that’s $9,450 $943,333 per ounce.

CORRECTION: my math was off by a factor of 10. Via JO 753 in a comment below:

“There are 28.3 gramz per ounse. 600 milligramz iz .6 gramz, so an ounse iz 47 dosez. Thats 943,333$ an ounse.

No wonder they can run commercialz for this stuff all day.”

The Queen on her throne.

For comparison, gold is $2,051 per ounce, as of this writing. So Skyrizi retails at more than four fourty-six times the cost of pure gold.

I could have saved so much money if I’d gotten infused with pure gold instead of Skyrizi.

Since starting my Crohn’s disease adventure I’ve learned that basically no one pays the retail price of these drugs. Instead, an insurer pays a fraction, and the rest is written off by the pharmaceutical company and hospital so they can claim they’re “charities” and avoid taxes.

Mmmm, money.

It would be like if I charged $150,000 for my $150 Drawings. Customers would still pay $150 and I’d set up a “financial assistance program” to generously cover the rest. Then I’d mark a net loss of $149,850 per drawing, which I could write off my taxes if I made enough to pay big taxes in the first place, but I don’t because I stay just below the poverty line so I can continue qualifying for Medicaid which pays for my Skyrizi.

Hospital money is fake.

That’s the difference between someone who buys a cheap tiara and fake movie-prop money off Amazon, and someone who is actually rich.

My friend Minette, who took these photos, thought a shot of my back was important.

Anyway that’s it for my hospital-administered Skyrizi infusions. My next $20,000 dose will be a 360 mg/2.4 mL “single-dose prefilled cartridge with on-body injector”. That’s $15,748 $157,222 per ounce, equivalent to about 7.68 76.8 ounces of gold.

$157,222 per ounce
$2,051 per ounce

Gold is looking like a real bargain right now.

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My Disciplinarian

“I admire your discipline,” said a friend, referring to my extremely strict, narrow Crohn’s diet. But there’s nothing to admire, because it’s not SELF discipline. It’s being subject to a brutal, sadistic “disciplinarian” that punishes the hell out of me if I make one false move. If you had this taskmaster you’d be “disciplined” too.

(Not a $150 Drawing, but looks like one.)

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Maya’s Request

As you know, requests for my  Hundred Hundred-and-Fifty Dollar Drawings are limited to two words or less.

But on March 11 I found this in my Twitter DMs:

Could you draw this as a picture for me

“it is a prime opportunity to get inside the tent with a goal-line defence, unless a clear upstream threat, accompanied by actionable intelligence, pops its head up”

Normally I’d say no, as that is batshit and impossible. However the request came from Maya Forstater, who explained:

It is a present for Helen Joyce – she has been training military types on how to write as a side-gig and this is the kind of thing they say.

Given the commissioner and the recipient, it was a challenge I couldn’t refuse, although I charged more for the extra words plus hazard pay (risk of head explosion). But first I gave it to AI art generator Dall-E:

Clearly this was a job for a human being. I felt so needed.

Although it was impossible to convey everything in the request, I did my best:

“it is a prime opportunity to get inside the tent with a goal-line defence, unless a clear upstream threat, accompanied by actionable intelligence, pops its head up”

Looks like I won’t be replaced by AI anytime soon.

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GENDER WARS playing cards in progress

When a friend recently suggested a deck of playing cards featuring major players in the “gender wars,” I knew I wanted a set. I tried to find other ways to make it happen – photographs? Filters? AI art generator? – but decided the most expedient option was to just do it myself. Which isn’t particularly expedient, as a deck requires 54 designs (if you include 2 Jokers).

I generally suck at caricatures, but decided my limited skills would have to be adequate. I Can Do Hard Things, just not perfectly.

This is probably my most successful caricature so far. Do not expect this level of resemblance throughout the deck.

Working furiously, this week I made the first suit, Hearts. Red suits (hearts and diamonds) will be more-or-less gender critical, and black suits (clubs and spades) will be more-or-less transactivist. If this sounds like inside baseball, it is; that’s why my friend suggested a deck in the first place. I’ve turned into a gender nerd, and “civilians” have no idea whom I’m referring to when I gossip. Edutainment!

I want to crowdfund for this project, but as I don’t trust any major crowdfunding platforms, I just set up some PayPal pre-order buttons. Yes I know PayPal sucks too, all online payment platforms suck, and cryptocurrency is still too volatile.

Pre order here!

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