AI, Keith Haring, and a Confession.

I have an unusual confession to make as an artist. I love AI. The possibilities of the technology enchant me. And because I have played with it for hours, I am acutely aware of its limitations. When you ask for an image in the style of an artist, you typically get only the roughest of pastiches, images that look vaguely right but upon closer scrutiny just don’t pass.

I also love the work of Keith Haring. I was blessed to come of age in NYC at the same time that his chalk drawing adorned the subways. I was never lucky enough to catch him at work but several of my friends had. And 40 years later, I am still jealous.

My son sent me the AI-generated finished version of his last, unfinished painting. I was immediately very moved. And actually cried. But hours later, when I looked at it again, I saw things wrong with it. Very wrong. There were incomplete, vague figure-ish things that would have been figures if this had actually been the completed painting. The rhythm wasn’t right. The magick and the spark were missing.

I’ve been working hard to learn Spanish. I know a lot of words. My syntax and tenses are a nightmare. Even without addressing my Jersey accent and inability to roll an “R”, the likelihood of my being perceived as a native speaker if I say more than “gracias” or “hola” is slight.

There’s your first analogy for 2024

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