From Fear to Creative Fuel: How AI Changed the Way I Make Art
I remember the day I wrote that piece. It wasn’t meant to go viral — and it didn’t. On the blog, barely anyone commented, which is normal. But something about it resonated. It quietly became one of the most read and most liked posts I’ve shared. When I posted it on Instagram, the reaction grew louder.
What I didn’t expect came a few weeks later. I got an email from an educational publisher in Montreal — ERPI — working on an English as a second language textbook called Avenues 3. They asked to include part of that article ( this one ) in a section focused on AI and Creativity. They were also interested in using one or two of my images, including those created with AI. The textbook would be printed and distributed digitally, with a total of 20,000 copies. We signed a licensing agreement. And what mattered to me most was that they respected the tone — not dystopian or reactionary, but reflective and open. The way I’d written it.
Sometimes, the things you write just to clear your head end up traveling further than you thought.
Can AI be creative? Spoiler: yes — but not without us
For centuries, creativity has been about process. About time, repetition, and searching. If you needed a specific reference, you had to dig — through books, folders, photos. Now, you can describe something and see it take shape in seconds. It’s not just about speed. It’s about precision. You can ask for a chocolate turtle with almond texture — and you’ll get it. Does that make it less artistic? Not at all. Because it’s still me deciding what’s useful, what gets discarded, and how that raw material becomes something that feels like mine.
That choice — that instinct — is where the art is.
My path: from denial to integration
At first, I rejected it completely. The idea that a machine could generate art made me uncomfortable. I even posted a symbol — a red circle with a line through “AI.” I was convinced this would drain meaning from our work.
But over time, I gave it a try. Quietly. Just to see.
And something shifted.
I realised it didn’t replace anything. It freed me. It stripped away the repetitive, mechanical parts of my process and brought me back to the core — the act of creating, intentionally and fully.
AI didn’t take over. It amplified what I already had.
It’s not magic. It’s direction + sensitivity
Using AI isn’t about pressing a button and waiting for perfection. It doesn’t think for you.
You have to know what you’re looking for. You have to test, fail, rephrase, reshape.
It takes taste, patience, and the ability to notice when something feels right — even if it isn’t technically “correct.”
No software can do that part for you.
Art is still human
That’s what I keep coming back to.
Just because something is faster doesn’t mean it’s worthless. If anything, it gives me more space to explore, to get things wrong, to take risks.
It’s like switching from walking to riding a bike. You still put in the effort. You just get further.
And this… is just the beginning
This is only part of the story. In the next chapter, I’ll talk about how I realised I wasn’t alone in this shift — and how artists have always adapted to new tools that seemed threatening at first.
AI isn’t the first “danger” we’ve turned into a companion. And it won’t be the last.
If this hits something in you, imagine what’s inside Saturno: Lights & Shadows.
Over 300 pages of process, sketches, and all the things I never post online. It’s on my site.