You ever do something so delightfully unhinged that you immediately think, “Okay… maybe not everyone will get this”? That was me last night when I turned my serious, adult cover letter into a pop song—with AI as my co-writer.
The People Who Love It… and the People Who Don’t
I sent it to a friend, proud of my catchy little experiment, and he immediately said, “I would not recommend sending that in for any jobs that you want.” Fair. Some people need their cover letters in paragraph form, not verse-chorus-verse.
And then there’s another friend who has a visceral hatred of everything AI-related. To him, AI is basically the villain in every dystopian movie ever made—something that will inevitably be used for manipulation, shortcuts, and the downfall of civilization. If you say “machine learning,” he hears “Skynet.”
And yes—someone out there will absolutely misuse it. Just like someone misuses a hammer, a camera, or a keyboard. But that’s not a reason for the rest of us to freeze our creativity in place.
I’m someone who believes AI is like a hammer. It can help build a house or tear one down. The tool isn’t inherently good or evil; it’s the intention behind the swing.
I sent it to a friend, proud of my catchy little experiment, and he immediately said, “I would not recommend sending that in for any jobs that you want.” Fair. Some people need their cover letters in paragraph form, not verse-chorus-verse.
And then there’s another friend who has a visceral hatred of everything AI-related. To him, AI is basically the villain in every dystopian movie ever made—something that will inevitably be used for manipulation, shortcuts, and the downfall of civilization. If you say “machine learning,” he hears “Skynet.”
And yes—someone out there will absolutely misuse it. Just like someone misuses a hammer, a camera, or a keyboard. But that’s not a reason for the rest of us to freeze our creativity in place.
I’m someone who believes AI is like a hammer. It can help build a house or tear one down. The tool isn’t inherently good or evil; it’s the intention behind the swing.
Why This Debate Feels Familiar (Photographers Know This Story)
As a photographer, this entire debate feels like déjà vu. Artists used to scoff at the camera itself. Photography wasn’t “real art,” they said—it was just a machine copying reality. No skill. No soul. Just a mechanical trick. Photographers fought for decades to show that artistry lives in timing, composition, emotion, craft, and the human behind the lens.
And then, decades later, digital photography arrived—and the analog photographers scoffed again. Digital wasn’t “pure.” It wasn’t “authentic.” It was too easy, too accessible, too immediate. Sound familiar? Yet here we are: digital photography not only won acceptance, it helped unleash an entirely new world of creativity, accessibility, and artistic expression.
The medium expanded. The tools evolved. The artist remained.
As a photographer, this entire debate feels like déjà vu. Artists used to scoff at the camera itself. Photography wasn’t “real art,” they said—it was just a machine copying reality. No skill. No soul. Just a mechanical trick. Photographers fought for decades to show that artistry lives in timing, composition, emotion, craft, and the human behind the lens.
And then, decades later, digital photography arrived—and the analog photographers scoffed again. Digital wasn’t “pure.” It wasn’t “authentic.” It was too easy, too accessible, too immediate. Sound familiar? Yet here we are: digital photography not only won acceptance, it helped unleash an entirely new world of creativity, accessibility, and artistic expression.
The medium expanded. The tools evolved. The artist remained.
AI as a Creative Partner, Not a Replacement
That’s how I see AI: an evolution of tools, not an erasure of the artist.
Lately, I’ve been leaning into AI a lot more—sometimes for brainstorming, sometimes for polishing my writing, and sometimes for those moments when my brain feels like it’s buffering. It’s the extra brain cell that shows up when mine is on lunch break. I treat AI-generated content as suggestions, not gospel.
In my world, AI is a collaborator, not a ghostwriter. Everything still goes through my taste, my edits, my judgment, my sensibilities. It doesn’t erase my voice; it sharpens it. It helps me experiment more, write faster, and save my energy for the ideas, the storytelling, the teaching, and the creating.
It’s not for everyone, and that’s okay. But right now, using it helps me build more, explore more, and stress a whole lot less.
And for me? That’s worth embracing.
That’s how I see AI: an evolution of tools, not an erasure of the artist.
Lately, I’ve been leaning into AI a lot more—sometimes for brainstorming, sometimes for polishing my writing, and sometimes for those moments when my brain feels like it’s buffering. It’s the extra brain cell that shows up when mine is on lunch break. I treat AI-generated content as suggestions, not gospel.
In my world, AI is a collaborator, not a ghostwriter. Everything still goes through my taste, my edits, my judgment, my sensibilities. It doesn’t erase my voice; it sharpens it. It helps me experiment more, write faster, and save my energy for the ideas, the storytelling, the teaching, and the creating.
It’s not for everyone, and that’s okay. But right now, using it helps me build more, explore more, and stress a whole lot less.
And for me? That’s worth embracing.
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