Not Faster. Just Deeper.

I’m using Midjourney to create paintings that tell my visions, the way I see the world, and the emotions of the people I meet and experience.


And I’m discovering that not only can artificial intelligence not reproduce who I am. When I share the images I create with my narrative prompts, people I know quickly see which ones have the most impact and truly show who I am and what I want to say. And all of them are generated through AI tools and narrative prompting.

There’s no difference. The tool is the same. What changes is the way I generate the images. But no matter how much AI runs on its own, works on its own, acts on its own, what counts is how I manipulate and use it, and through this, what I create.

And it’s immediately recognizable which is my style exactly in each single painting, which fully belong to me and which don’t. There’s nothing to do. This tool can’t reproduce that style because that style is me, and it’s perfectly visible in each image.

So I have in front of me a tool that allows me to multiply my potential, but in reality it doesn’t speed me up. I don’t go faster.

I live in complexity, a new kind of complexity made of the need for storytelling, with the advantage of being able to deeply understand through words, to have to understand through words what I do.

To become more aware of why I paint what I paint and the technique I use. Because I have to tell the story, and yet it remains unreproducible because at a certain point, despite the generative component being out of my control in a way, the selection is fully in my hands, and there my style and my decision matter and there’s no way to replace that.

Strangely, I personally feel sorry about this. I see it as a limit. But it’s a fact. My identity, my ability to discern, and my style with everything inside it. My life experience, my story, who I am, my struggles, my limits, my pain remain mine.

Artificial intelligence can do nothing against that. It’s a tool at my service that needs my filter to generate something that has value for me as an individual, as a unique, unrepeatable experience.

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The Beauty of Imperfect Rhythm

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The fucking world in between