You do you, boo.
I got told in no uncertain terms by a stranger on Instagram yesterday who was trying to make me ashamed for playing with AI-generated art that the AI art on my feed “looks bad.”
As though I had been waiting with bated breath for this critique.
As though the intention in creating the art was to please them.
As though what makes “good art” isn’t subjective.
As though they thought by making me feel small and stealing my joy, they could make their own lives better.
I feel sorry for people like this. People who think that because they dislike or disapprove of something, the creator should care. People to whom it doesn’t occur that the creator is getting exactly what they need from their efforts, regardless of the quality of the output.
Don’t worry, they didn’t make me feel small. I couldn’t care less what a hostile stranger thinks of the hobby I do for fun (and in which I’m very much a novice!), especially a stranger who wouldn’t approve of any art touched by AI in any form, no matter how impressive it actually is.
For me, I make and appreciate AI art because of what it gets right, and because what it gets wrong is often just as—or more—entertaining than the ideally rendered versions.
Everyone needs something they do that feeds their soul. For someone like me, who has long been under the weight of self-imposed outrageously high standards and who has laboured for years over a single product before I considered it ready for public consumption, creating and posting things that are fast, fun, and gloriously imperfect is growth.
The world is full of trolls and bullies who think you need the benefit of their criticism. You don’t, but if they give it to you anyway, just remember—they’re the ones who are missing out. They’re living their lives inside narrow walls of what they think is acceptable or perfect or “good enough”, and, chances are, they often don’t meet their own standards.
Keep doing the thing. Keep making the art. Keep playing and being creative and having fun.
You do you, boo.
You don’t want those trolls to stick around anyway. It’s much better to attract people who want to hang out with gloriously messy and perfectly imperfect you, not the version of you they wish you were.
As for those who are still struggling under the burden of perfectionism, well, maybe we can make their eyeballs twitch with this:
An AI-generated brush script graphic in joyful, vibrant colours, superimposed on the image of a cozy deck. The text reads “Perfectiionism is the thief of joy.” 😁 (I got several versions of this concept that were spelled right. This one made me smile the most. I love me some good irony, I do.)
Or maybe they’ll learn to relax and have a little fun, and remember that having fun and enjoying yourself is what art is supposed to be for.
Because art is messy, just like life. And if AI isn’t letting you make art that’s a little messy too, then I’m not sure it’s doing it right. :-)
On Saturday, my hubby and I spent several hours at our local Farmers’ Market connecting with readers and finding new ones. It was a blast, and I’m looking forward to getting out to several more markets this summer. Thanks to everyone who stopped by our table!
Once upon a time not so long ago, a comment about my work from a random stranger would have ripped me up inside. That’s why I wanted to encourage you. I’ve recently started caring a lot less about what other people think and sticking my neck out a little more about what I think and showing my true colours.
And so far, I haven’t died once. 😆 I’m pretty proud of how far I’ve come, even though I know I still have a ways to go.
I would love to hear something you’re proud of yourself for lately. Something you’ve done or said or made or maybe didn’t say or do (even though you wanted to but knew it would end badly) that made you go, “Hey, I did that. Awesome. I’m proud of me.” Let me know in the comments. I’d love to cheer with you!
