Art, in various mediums, has been a huge part of my life for as long as I can remember. I spent hours in my childhood home putting together comic books based on my favourite cartoons at the time. I picked up a pencil and wrote stories that drew inspiration from the books I obsessed over. That’s all to say, I adored producing art, as much as consuming it.Â
I turned to media in all these forms when I was yearning for solace. These stories offered me company on days I was particularly lonely. They became my safe-haven, should my academic responsibilities become too overwhelming. I create, placing fragments of myself in my stories and artwork. I’m sure that anyone can relate to these things in some way. This affinity for the arts is intrinsic to our humanity. It runs in our blood, carried through our collective histories.Â
It worries me now, opening websites like Pinterest—a hub for human creations—and being hit with a concerningly large amount of AI generated content. These images are monolithic in nature; they are regurgitations of real, stolen art. Through our constant exposure to it today, we may not even realize that we are consuming it. This isn’t solely a matter of digital media either. AI is actively being used to compose music, write stories and infiltrate other means of creating art.Â
That is why I want to reflect on the ways that art has saved me, and how the rise in AI will never take away from the creation of authentic, human art.Â
Art, in so many ways, got me through high school, and now, university. I’m not exaggerating—the adjustment to the new environment was rough. I was the epitome of the awkward teenage girl, and I had no idea what this shift had in store for me. I had just moved towns, COVID had just passed and I felt like I forgot how to interact with new people… I was lost.Â
I had a cure for my reservations during this period of adjustment– it was a sketchbook, gifted to me by my sister when I was in the sixth grade. I would spend hours honing my craft and it provided me a distraction from how rough school felt in the beginning. It was, in all honesty, the best way to cope with the difficulties of school. This continued throughout my high school career, and even now, as I adjust to university.Â
When drawing didn’t work, writing did. If you ask anyone I know, they would tell you that I cannot consume media normally. I will immerse myself entirely in the stories created by others. Whether it would be spending hours on games, fixating myself on another TV series, or cozied up with a book—my interest in these stories never died out upon finishing them. These narratives are housed in my brain as permanent residents, and if I didn’t project that onto paper somehow, I might explode. By resonating with them, I began to hone my own craft. Writing became something I’m entirely passionate about—not just creatively, either. An academic essay hates to see me coming; I genuinely enjoy writing those! Writing, in all these ways, provided me salvation from my troubles.
My interests also help me foster connections with others. I have forged so many lasting bonds by joining clubs that allowed for artistic expression, or simply by carrying pieces of the media that I enjoy through pins or keychains. Art, in its many forms, is not merely a form of self-expression for the creator. It extends to the consumers, and what they pull from it. Stories, art-pieces, and other mediums encourage community. Fandom is a prime example of this! People coming together to appreciate a piece—or even challenge what it represents—proves the importance of keeping art human.
When I wanted to put myself out there, I gave acting a chance. I didn’t know what joining my school’s One Act Play Festival had in store for me. I discovered my voice, and excavated a new passion for theatre. This became a staple throughout my high school career. It was in my last two years I decided to combine my love with storytelling and dramatic arts. I directed plays that I had written, giving faces to my characters and providing them a space to tell my story. I didn’t have a voice when I entered high school, however, through my theatrical excavation, I discovered one; and I ensured it was heard. It’s my most memorable high school experience to this day.Â
There is a reason I continue to dedicate myself to creating. I deliberately chose a post-secondary pathway that allows me to create. The art that I and many others create are irreplaceable, seeing as they are the products of human experiences. AI could never replicate that.