Journal: When Colors Speak without AI
The whole world is switching to Artificial Intelligence. Take financial analysis or meeting minutes, it rules the world like a king. Humans take months and weeks to make things happen, but in a second, the chatbox of OpenAI or Google spits our results.
I have used some of them, including images for my pictures. AI can quickly read content or specific prompts, and convert them into images. Life is easy for those who look at instant consumption. This is the age of goldfish attention and fast fashion.
Where is the space for human artists?
The recent surge of AI-generated Studio Ghibli-inspired art, driven by ChatGPT’s latest image generation capabilities, has reignited a critical conversation about the role of artificial intelligence in creative fields. Amidst the digital frenzy of reimagined selves in Ghibli worlds, an old video of the studio’s co-founder, Hayao Miyazaki, has resurfaced, delivering a powerful and deeply personal perspective on AI-generated animation.
Miyazaki’s reaction to a demonstration of AI-generated movement was visceral. He saw not innovation, but a “creepy” and “grotesque” distortion of life, devoid of genuine human feeling.
His words, “I strongly feel that this is an insult to life itself,” resonate deeply, highlighting the chasm between artificial creation and the lived human experience.
He spoke of a friend with a disability, whose struggles with movement were mirrored in the AI’s unnatural, robotic motions. For Miyazaki, this wasn’t an abstract technological advancement; it was a stark reminder of the pain and vulnerability inherent in human existence, something AI could never replicate in its cold perfection.
This sentiment echoes far beyond animation. It speaks to the fundamental difference between machine-produced perfection and the imperfect, human touch that imbues art with soul.
Consider the difference between machine-printed and hand-block-printed fabrics. A machine can produce flawless, uniform patterns, but it lacks the subtle variations, human errors, and inherent story that a hand-crafted piece carries.
Similarly, AI-generated art, while technically impressive, often lacks the emotional depth and lived experience that artists pour into their work. It’s a reminder that 3,000 years of art, culture, and countless human lives have contributed to the tapestry of creative expression. To dismiss this legacy in favor of algorithmic efficiency is to diminish the very essence of what makes art human.
As someone who understands the deeply personal nature of artistic creation, I recognize Miyazaki’s concerns. In a world increasingly driven by speed and efficiency, we risk losing sight of the human element that makes art meaningful. While AI tools may offer new avenues for creativity, we must remain mindful of the profound value of human expression, the imperfections, and the soul that machines can never replicate.
What if somebody sees the world in colors?
This story explores the life of Rohan, a 13-year-old boy on the autism spectrum, who is cared for by people who love him, though they are not his biological family. Rohan's journey unfolds within a traditional art family that struggles with the challenges of human ego and despair. In this environment, art itself becomes a point of conflict between generations within the family.
The story rips the core of how magnificent art can be, while also reflecting the fickle minds of the humans who live around them. The fact that I drew this art through AI itself shows how hypocritical I can be.
Art is at a crossroads:
“Some people worry that artificial intelligence will make us feel inferior, but then, anybody in his right mind should have an inferiority complex every time he looks at a flower.”
— Alan Kay
I completely agree. AI will consume everything in its path, including humans, resembling a gluttonous Frankenstein. However, we must remember that AI can never experience the simple joys of life. It cannot stop and marvel at the beauty of the stars and the moon, the sun and the blue sky, the passing clouds, the stunning petals of colorful flowers, or the enchanting flutter of butterfly wings. Artificial Intelligence cannot feel the gentle breeze that brushes against us. There’s something deeply human about our souls—flawed, vulnerable, and broken—and it is this imperfection that makes each of us unique.
So, what do we do? It is time for humans to celebrate their flaws, their uniqueness, and their diversity, and celebrate them. Take a moment to observe the conflicts between different races, communities, and cultures. Often, we expect everyone to be just like us, and when they are not, we react negatively. It seems that we haven't truly learned the important lessons that history has been trying to teach us all along.
Then comes AI—it will perceive humanity as a unified entity, much like how we wish other humans would see us. By the time we realize this, it may be too late. Our true strength lies in the last human who remains vulnerable, the one who is unaware of AI but is as unique as a fingerprint, the stripes of a zebra, or the freckles on the distant moon.
~Ashok Subramanian © 2025
