Artificial Creativity and the Meaning We Bring to Art

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We talk about AI as if it is becoming an artist. But if creativity comes from experience, memory, and emotion, where would an AI get any of that?

Everything an AI produces begins with what we give it. Data. Images. Patterns. Input shaped by human lives.

If AI rearranges what already exists, does that count as creativity? Or is creativity still something human because it comes from an inner place we don’t fully understand?

Artists create from the small moments that shape them. Their work reflects what they feel, fear, hope for, or remember. Art becomes a mirror for society because it carries the imprint of real experience.

That is why good art connects us to ourselves. It wakes up our senses. It helps us slow down long enough to notice how we feel.It becomes a quiet invitation to understand who we are.

But there is another side to art. Art is also perception. Two people can look at the same painting and see two different stories. Not because the art changed, but because each person brings their own life to it.

Our history. Our beliefs.The culture we grew up in. The way we see the world.

If art lives partly in the eye of the viewer, then AI becomes a third party in the process.It creates an object, but we decide what it means. We bring the human part.

That may be the gap AI can never cross. For all an artist intends, the art only becomes real in the heart of the person who sees it.

And that part is still ours.

Explore more reflections on art and perception in the Art Imagery & Reviews section.

Why Monochrome Art Still Matters

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Art has always been a part of how I understand the world. The more I write about attention, alignment, and small moments, the more I see how visual simplicity shapes the way we feel. Monochrome images—painted, photographed, or sketched—remind us that depth doesn’t require complexity. Sometimes, removing color helps us see the truth of an image more clearly.

Monochrome art uses a single color or a range of that color. With fewer distractions, the eye settles. Form, texture, and shape become the story. It doesn’t matter whether the artist uses paint, charcoal, ink, or the lens of a camera—the result is often the same: clarity.

Yves Klein showed this beautifully in the 1950s with his deep ultramarine blue series. His work proved that one color, handled with intention, can feel expansive and emotional. Black-and-white photography offers a similar effect. Without color, we are drawn to light, shadow, and stillness. Ordinary scenes gain depth. Empty spaces feel meaningful. What was simple now invites reflection.

For thousands of years, cultures have used the contrast of light and darkness as a metaphor for balance, good and bad, day and night. Monochrome images tap into that timeless instinct. They quiet the mind for a moment and let us focus on what matters inside the frame.

In a world full of noise, monochrome art gives us a quiet place to look.

If monochrome art teaches us anything, it’s that attention changes everything. When we slow down enough to look closely, small moments reveal their depth. That’s the idea behind my next piece: The Art of Paying Attention.