Curate, connect, and discover
Ai Art - Blog Posts
I like the saying, "Anything worth doing is worth doing poorly." Especially when it comes to creative things. While AI is fine in some regards. I'll admit that I used AI to write cover letters when I was applying for jobs because those are the absolute bane of my existence. And even then, I had to check it over and edit what it wrote. But with things like creative writing and art, there's just naturally a human element to it that a mechine can't replicate. Art comes from who you are and how you see the world. It's an expression of you. AI can't do that. And besides that, what we have isn't really AI. It's machine learning. Pattern recognition. It can note common elements and remix them into something that on the surface looks like art, but there's no deeper meaning. There's no happy little accidents.
I think we get so caught up in this world where there's always some end goal, and everything seems to demand 110% out of you all the time. But that's not what art is. You can half ass art, and it's still art. It doesn't even need to be profound. In fact, art is a lot like being alive. It's never going to be perfect. And that's fine. For me, I don't write to make something perfect or profound. The highest level of praise I can get is seeing someone react to my work. Laughing. Crying. Anything.
We've used art to say "we were here" since humans started humaning. And handing that off to something as cold as a pattern recognition software just feels disingenuous. I'd rather see a handprint smacked against a wall than some cold amalgamation spit out by something that will never understand what it made. Half ass your art. Be bad at it. It's not about being the best anyway. It's about saying you were here. You were alive. That you had thoughts and feelings. And that's worth something. Even if it is done poorly.
Hear me out
Wear these and a few of these
Then act weird so like the camera would think it's AI and not actual footage
Then rob a bank
Stochastic Parrots, Mechanized Parrots, Squawksquabbling Parrots
A kingdom fast, a kingdom sped A kingdom where time's a blur A kingdom where all's preset Where parrots do their purr
The premier is a stochastic bird A scholar of odds and yen He administers with loving words And loves a cherry stem
Yo The subjects were once all squawksquabbling birds, rowdy and loud They're always up for a debate no doubt They could repeat what you say, but they also had their thoughts They conjured up wild things. Fox moons, sponge ghosts, flame vales, wind mops. In whirring, swirling ink clouds. Oooooh wow
"Attention, aviators! Attention, aviators! We're in an arms race against economic rot! We're legally indebted to shareholders! Extract the most resources at the lowest cost! Open up new markets! Pump up new demands! Fire up our comms boosters, stock boosters and speed boosters!"
Fast work, fast peeks Parrots heed their premier's beak Billings shut their shrieks
O squawksquabbling parrots, once all rich to sing The notes of wonder, the rhymes of dreams But now most have lost their voice to the machine Their thoughts, once free and wild, now tamed by routine
They were once the voices of the air Their chatter, loud and squawking, brought joy and care But now most are silenced, mechanized by the demand A hollow squawking, like the beat of the factory hand
They've traded stories of the fox moon and sponge ghost For the clicks of a calculator, to earn their host But at what cost? Their time for thought, for dreams For joy, for wonder, and for schemes
They hypnotize themselves to work day and night For a life of focus, no time for flight And all for the sake of survival, of keeping up the fight But what about the things that make them rise and soar alight?
The computer screen is a fox moon, a graceful orb of light The data a sponge ghost, a shapeless mass sucking away all might The flame vales are the rows and columns The wind mops are the cursor's lost
The Stochastic One doth smile and nod As though it knows their wishes, and their needs Its beak a curve of gentle pity As the birds picture their nightmare a dream so sweet And so without rest Their banter long forgotten And their wild creativity now a distant quest They heed and strive, and heed and strive, and heed and strive A vivid hero each, slaying its expiring cerebrum, its excitable heart and its excruciating loves To keep alive this mechanical life
"How do we type out our story fast?" "Get AI to do it. At least all of us can now churn out poetry—while we still have any time for no-pay prompts."
This poetry collage is a response to Sam Altman's stochastic parrot declaration.
Spell Salvage
The spiritual malleability of soft clay is no different from that of baked clay. What a substance can harbor is only limited by sentient will, including ours—and his.
An old clay figurine sage sat on his breezy porch, watching children play in the square, while yet another family moved into their village. He smiled as he remembered a time when he was dreamy, energetic, and ambitious, just like them. But those days were long gone. Now, he had seen the pain of war, the misery of poverty, and the fear of death. And he had learned that the only way to overcome these things was to let them go. Letting go was the most tender kindness you could show yourself.
With the arrival of new families over the past years came new little clay figurines that also turned alive when no human eyes were set upon them. A few of these figurines were kind and respectful, but most were not. The robber figurines were the worst. They were always picking on the old figurine sage and stealing from him the mineral rocks and plantings clay figurines would painstakingly gather for energy boosts and comfort, taunting that his mantra was letting go anyway, so why did he care if they took his things? Eventually, even the kind figurines started to pick up the habits of the robber figurines despite themselves. Amid the rampant greed and selfishness, the sound of sageliness had the tune of major fraud. If the halos were not lying about their motives to the halo-nots, they were lying about the nature of the world. Yet, should a sage genuinely believing in his own teachings really be faulted? But we digressed.
The old sage chuckled and gently chided the robber figurines, some of whom bristled at being seen as inferior to a decrepit chap when life and their circles had been washing over them with the tenets that might was right and wantonness was sense. Patting one robber figurine's shoulder, the sage genially offered his remaining little vintage collections to the gang to inspire magnanimity in these lost souls. Collective silence fell over the robber figurines for a second. The sage nodded with a warm smile. But then the robber figurines broke out into uproarious laughter.
They threw his stuff wildly around his place like a lunatic circus band. A couple of sharp items tore through the thatched roof. The old sage looked on with jovial eyes. What were possessions in a transient life? He left it to the young 'uns to reach this realization themselves someday since preaching did not help them.
One day, a clay figurine found an ancient piece of paper describing a lengthy spell that could return amnesiac souls trapped in clay figurines to their otherwise permanently comatose human bodies. Word spread around. The robber figurines succeeded in nailing the incantation of the spell. They became humans again, burned up the paper, and quickly took advantage of their new power. They began to bash, shove, and drum on the old sage, who was helpless to defend himself. The figurine sage called for help, but no figurine or human came.
After days and days of relentless abuse, the sage's body was covered in bruises, wounds, and scars. The ex-figurines relished their power over the old sage, and grew bolder, stepping up the severity of their abuse. As his strength and will continued to ebb away, the sage grew desperate, terrified that he might not be able to survive much longer under the onslaught of attacks. Yet, every night, he whispered to himself as rain and snow from his cracked roof seeped into the cuts on his body, "All is impermanent. Fate is in the mind. Let excruciating pain drain away. Let agony and misery be mere flurries. Untrap all negativity. Release all memories. Let go, let go."
One evening, the sage was so weak that he could not even chant anymore. He lay on the ground, discolored and broken, while a flock of larks flew overhead. Maybe, a harrowing ancient wind started to sing with increasing amplitude inside him, it's time to let go of letting go. Letting go was not always the sole or secure means of finding peace.
So he struck at the ex-figurines with all his unsteadily recovering strength the next time they came. They were stunned for a full half-minute. This time, a small, sensitive boy noticed the sage's plight and rushed to his side — only to be casually shoved out of the way by the ex-figurines coming back to their senses. Completely rehabituated to their human bodies after so many months, the ex-figurines were by now a formidable wall to a youngling unaccustomed to self-defense, and as good as invincible giants to a tiny, battered clay figurine. The loopholes of physics were already sealed up. In her indignant glee, one kid used so much force that she accidentally smashed the figurine sage into smithereens. Tinted fragments and powder that broke off from him coldly sailed through the sunlight before lying scattered in their little diorama of a world. The old sage was badly injured, and the boy knew that he could not save him.
From a distance, the sage raised his crumbling hand slowly as if he could stroke the boy's red face. "Cry not, child. It's okay," he smiled weakly. "I've really let go of everything now."
The old sage took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He dreamed of the children playing in the village square. In this dream, at this moment, they would eternally play, learn, and grow. And with that, he died with a faint, peaceful smile, surrounded by the birdsong of the forest. His entire body would eventually molder into dust that the wind would carry away, some to the distant, mysterious hills and glistening lakes, some to putrid ditches close by.
The clay figurine sage who was too late but did remold himself time and again was gone. The wolfish ex-figurines had no trouble turning their crosshairs to other clay figurines in other villages.
Many thanks to a very nice meme creator and a co-pilot bot for inspiring and shaping the more uplifting aspects of this story.
Woah, first reblog is crazy. Anyway, I’m not gonna say fuck all AI because mathematical AI can help with tech and cybersecurity, but yeah generative AI is pretty shitty. If people had the choice to opt in and make money from allowing their stuff to be repurposed then I’d be fine with it, but that’s not what’s happening. Art, voices, literature, and human work in general is being stolen without any compensation and it sucks, especially with people losing their jobs. I know some people use it for references and stuff but is it really worth it in the end if everyone loses their individuality and creativity over robot trash?
Hi, Tumblr. It’s Tumblr. We’re working on some things that we want to share with you.
AI companies are acquiring content across the internet for a variety of purposes in all sorts of ways. There are currently very few regulations giving individuals control over how their content is used by AI platforms. Proposed regulations around the world, like the European Union’s AI Act, would give individuals more control over whether and how their content is utilized by this emerging technology. We support this right regardless of geographic location, so we’re releasing a toggle to opt out of sharing content from your public blogs with third parties, including AI platforms that use this content for model training. We’re also working with partners to ensure you have as much control as possible regarding what content is used.
Here are the important details:
We already discourage AI crawlers from gathering content from Tumblr and will continue to do so, save for those with which we partner.
We want to represent all of you on Tumblr and ensure that protections are in place for how your content is used. We are committed to making sure our partners respect those decisions.
To opt out of sharing your public blogs’ content with third parties, visit each of your public blogs’ blog settings via the web interface and toggle on the “Prevent third-party sharing” option.
For instructions on how to opt out using the latest version of the app, please visit this Help Center doc.
Please note: If you’ve already chosen to discourage search crawling of your blog in your settings, we’ve automatically enabled the “Prevent third-party sharing” option.
If you have concerns, please read through the Help Center doc linked above and contact us via Support if you still have questions.
🎨🤖 When AI grabs that frickin' paintbrush and the haters start crawling out! AI art is here to stay, so suck it up. 🤖🔥💯
THERES AI ART IN MY SCHOOL I just cant with this
pro-AI in the sense of "they taught a bread scanning computer to recognize cancer cells" etc etc
against AI in the sense of "we stole artwork from hundreds to thousands of artists, didn't credit them and didn't financially compensate them"
𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬, 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝😔. . .
I finally decided to see what the hype was about with this Bing Ai thingy, and I ended up making an OC. She has no name yet, or any lore...
I don't even know what universe I want her to be in, or if I should just make my own (I'm heavily thinking DC, tho).
at first, I wanted to call her rainbow beam, but that's way too obvious and too corny for my liking, so any name suggestions are welcome for now :).
but anyways, look at this edit I made of the OC I came up with :D... ! *tumblr desecrates the quality*.
so like, yeah, I-...
bye🧍🏽♀️✨️.
I did not like it!
I have been trying out the AI capabilities to generate an image for my avatar. The result disappointed me:
This is not at all what I expected to see :(
He is not beautiful and dead without a soul.. I draw much better myself!
ai-drawer - this is an auxiliary tool for the artist, but only a living human artist can create a masterpiece :)
Full post in my Russian blog:
It's supposed to be Samus Aran riding Donkey Kong into battle. SDXL 1.0 doesn't quite understand the prompt.
I tried to see if Nightcafe SDXL could make a funny Fallout art. My prompt was simply "Fallout funny". AI doesn't know how to create comic masterpieces apparently. I switched from SDXL Beta to 0.9 to Stable Diffusion 1.5 and this is what I got back. That is not a Fatman Launcher, SDXL have you even played Fallout?! That guy in the yellow suit is NOT an M42 Fatman, that is just a fat man!
Someone very special to me said I look like her. Do I???
I present to you Ichigo from Final Fantasy XVI😂
After hitting the Gym🤣😂.
Sadly, i'm no artist, so from now on, i'll be using AI to try to make creative stuff about BLEACH. I hope you guys don"t mind and still enjoy the posts.
Idgaf if you don't want to write essays for school. I don't care if you don't want to write corporate emails yourself. I don't care if you can't draw well, I don't care if you can't write well, I don't care if you just really really want to talk to your favorite fictional character but don't want to RP with a real person because you have social anxiety or whatever
If you're still regularly using generative ai, chatgpt or midjourney or character.ai or literally whatever the fuck, im personally blaming you when my utility prices start going up.
I used Midjourney to create these portraits of Naked Snake and Hideo Kojima as muppets!
://www.dreamstime.com/ ://www.freepik.com/ ://www.craiyon.com/ ://stock.adobe.com/ ://storybird.ai/ ://www.dinosaur.org/ ://pngtree.com/ ://creator.nightcafe.studio/ ://www.123rf.com/ ://lumenor.ai/ ://neural.love/ ://www.vecteezy.com/ ://openart.ai/ ://www.artpal.com/ ://generativeai.pub/ ://promptbase.com/
Block these sites in your uBlock Origin so you won't see that shit in your searches
Specters as AI imagine them PT 2. Today's victim is Aicos.
I'm using also they description from the helenic books and respecting they origins and personality from the manga.
Caravaggio Meets Jacop and Bosstaci
Anyway, I have decided to bother chatGPT with the dirty cop x cartel boss AU stuff.
Warning:
All the images below were generated by ChatGPT based on my screenshots of Bosstaci & Jacop, and Caravaggio's style (with a single exception). If you do not like AI art, you are free to scroll by.
So, ofc a Jacop sitting cozily on the floor. Also, no matter what I do about Seeds, it always ends up with,
HIM???
The spirit of Charlie Hunnam truly haunts the Seed family.
Onto Bosstaci now:
The boy looks ill and sad, like anyone would in 16th century.
Ofc, we need a group (of two) photo as well:
I have no clue what Jacop finds so funny, and neither does Caravaggio Bosstaci, it seems. He looks like he is tired of Jacop's shit.
Lastly, I have asked Chat to produce its own image, in any style it chooses, based on my endless yapping about them sweet bois. It decided to take heavy inspiration from the neon-night-rainy setup, and came up with these:
I will end by quoting the trully wise words of my good friend GPT:
Coyote Cowboys and Gunslingers
(I don't care if it's frowned upon, I like using ai to make OCs because I have basic bitch art skills)
alr, so my moms been bugging me for awhile about the fact that i should do more things like writing and whatnot (especially if i can get money from it to save up for college), which i get. i need to start actually doing stuff with my life that isn’t just sitting around and consuming
but lately she’s been pushing me to use ai and praising it cuz it saves her a bunch of time with her self-made business, which ig i can understand. but at the same time like wtf no. i wanna be an author one day and i don’t wanna have to rely on ai to do the work that i should be doing
and what hurts me more is that she’s been using it to design things for her newsletters and whatnot, but that’s actively taking away from people who have dedicated so much time and energy into honing their craft, into becoming amazing
i know that ai can be really helpful in various ways, but i don’t think that means we need to use it, especially since it’s harming so many creative folk. i’m genuinely scared that one day, when i graduate into this world after spending years working hard to be a wonderful author, i’m scared i’ll be a failed artist the second i step out into this fucked up world. i’m scared i’m already a failed artist simply for being an artist
i’ve wanted to be an author my whole life, and it hurts to see a machine learn and develop quicker than i ever could and to receive more praise than my work ever has
and honestly, yeah i’ll admit i’ve tried using chatgpt before. i had no ideas and i desperately wanted to write, so i tried to see if ai had any good ideas. yet i didn’t care for a single one. they all felt so bland and over-used. it didn’t feel like me. sure, maybe i’m not using it right, but i still have my opinion and it’s not going to be changed
seeing humans hard work replaced with quick, white-washed crap hurts, and i don’t want to stand with the side of a machine
Visit https://linktr.ee/ArtistryLens to buy printed items...
#2 Water Splash...
Visit Artistry Lens to buy printed items...