Through the Lens: AI, Photography, and the Soul of Creation
When the first camera was invented, I imagine painters looking at it with a quiet kind of dread. Maybe they thought, Well, that’s it—our craft is finished. But time has a way of revealing deeper truths. The camera didn’t kill painting. Just like digital didn’t kill film. Just like AI won’t kill photography. Art doesn't die—it evolves, it adapts, it absorbs.
AI is a powerful tool. And when used as a tool, it has the potential to elevate our art, to open new creative doors, to make the impossible visible. I don’t fear it. I’m not here to gatekeep. I respect it for what it is: a mirror of our imagination filtered through code and computation.
But there’s something that sits uneasy in my chest—and it’s not the existence of AI art itself. It’s the absence of process.
Art, for me, has always been about the journey. The long walk with a camera slung over my shoulder. The hours spent waiting for light to fall just so. The missed shots, the imperfect ones. The quiet connection between my eyes and the world—raw, unfiltered, unpolished. That’s where the soul of my work lives.
Typing a few prompts into a screen and getting an image seconds later—no matter how beautiful—feels like skipping the dream. Like jumping straight to the destination without ever taking the road. And when those outputs are passed off as "real" photos, or as work born of lived experience, I can’t help but feel we’re losing something sacred.
The problem isn’t AI. It’s the illusion. The dishonesty. The detachment.
Photography, to me, is about being there. It's about breath and light and instinct. It’s about emotion—sometimes messy, often flawed, but undeniably human. That’s why I still love the texture of grain, the softness of blur, the unpredictability of a handheld shot. Because those imperfections are a part of me.
I may never use AI in my own work, but I don’t dismiss it. I just believe that tools should support creativity, not replace the intimacy of making. There’s no shortcut for feeling. No algorithm for presence.
So if you create with AI—own it. Share the process, not just the product. And if you create with your hands, your eyes, your heart—keep going. There’s still room for all of us. Art isn’t a competition. It’s a conversation.
And I want my side of that conversation to stay honest, imperfect, and very much alive.
