at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
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I need to know if Scar is the Watchers' favorite and they like to stir up crap with him, or if they're pissed that he defies the order they set by holding something from a previous life game so deep in his memory
Or if they're just pissed at Grian who, to his own dismay, buried himself into someone's memory when he's the only one who's supposed to remember past lives. And if the Watchers are using Scar to purposefully punish and mock the Grian who was only ever meant to watch. Or if it's all Scar, to consciously show that he hasn't forgotten and he knows Grian hasn't either. What if the Watchers (who believe to be manipulating him), like so many others have, see him as an oblivious fool, and what if Scar plays into that notion yet again as one of his greatest strengths
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but like speaking seriously. i genuinely, truly wish this was still the age of terrible shovelware games and not. whatever the fuck is happening now between the mobile gaming market, microtransactions, and. the everything of it. it’s not that shovelware is good, it’s that it’s interesting! it’s not any less corporate in its goals, but it’s less… evil? you know? you pay for shovelware game, you still get a game, as terrible as it might be. it won’t have ads in it, it won’t ask you to pay more money once you’ve bought it, it’ll just be almost innocently terrible on its disc in its entirety, entertaining to shit on with friends and an enigma as to what went into its creation. i have a genuine little place in my heart for awful tie-in games, especially when you can tell that for however bad they are, there was one person on that team that you can tell gave a shit. (and sometimes there wasn’t. but that’s still fun. the game still had to be made, someone still had to make choices about it’s creation, and those choices can be fascinating!)
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Got this super cool shot at a rest stop of the dust storm rising to meet the storm cell we were trying to outrun.
Just before, while driving through it, it was raining and hailing so hard that everyone had to pull over because you could no longer see the markings on the road within five feet of you, much less the cars around you. The winds were so strong that they rocked the car, and a constant strobe of lightning was going on at all sides.
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NaNo post?? Anyone want a NaNo post?
*slinks into view* Okay so you guys know how I came in here a little while back with Wooded One? Forget all about that for now we have a new contender that appeared to me in a dream and hijacked my brain and decided it wanted to be my NaNo project (hilarious given I haven’t officially done NaNo since the site change)
so uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh yea say hi to The Goddess’s Eye!
Someone was calling me. The air was alive with it, trembling with the ghost of words. Pulling me across the sand, guiding me over endless dunes and past vast, towering plateaus. Pulling and pulling and calling. It sang to me, an insistent tug that compelled me to move, to follow. It sounded so kind, so imploring.
I knew the voice, even before I could hear it. Recognized it on a deep inner level I didn’t understand but inherently resonated with. It was familiar. I knew the source, even though I couldn’t place it. And it knew me. It needed me.
“...child...my child...come...”
I jerked awake and nearly fell out of my perch, scrambling to right myself before I went crashing down to the jagged rocks below the tiny platform.
I’d fallen asleep in the middle of my watch. Careless.
Blinking and disoriented, I rubbed my eyes and peered around, dismayed to see it was already dark. I knew right away I’d managed to sleep through the first hour of night—the safest hour—and to top it off I’d lost sight of my quarry.
Grumbling, I peeked out from under my sun cover and switched to night vision. That was precious time lost, time I’d now need to spend finding and getting to my target before other animals arrived. I wasn’t looking forward to wrestling a night boar—again—for chunks of cacti.
So yeah this is what I’ll be (hopefully) working on next month! If we get anywhere good I’ll share a few juicy bits here~ Until then wish me luck (this project is approx....3 weeks old hAHA) and also good luck to all of your writing efforts!!
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