Lately, the digital world has been flooded with "perfect" images. You know the ones—the hyper-smooth landscapes and flawless faces generated by AI art tools in seconds. While generative AI is a fascinating feat of engineering, it has created a "trust gap" for collectors looking for original artwork.

I’ve had a few people ask me lately if my work is AI-generated. I get why they ask, but the truth is a lot more human (and a lot messier) than a line of code.

It starts with a smudge, not a prompt

When I sit down to create, there isn't a "generate" button. My process is rooted in traditional art techniques—starting with a lopsided sketch in a notebook and a very cold cup of tea.

The thing about AI-generated images is that they are designed to be perfect. They calculate the most likely placement for a pixel based on a database. But my work lives in the intentional imperfections. It’s in the stray charcoal mark I decided to leave in, the way the ink bled on the paper, or the slight wobble in a hand-drawn line.

Those aren't "errors"; they are the unique fingerprints of a human creator.

The "Ugly Middle" of the Creative Process

A text-to-image generator goes from 0 to 100 in an instant. My process is a slow, sometimes frustrating crawl. I spend hours wrestling with a single shadow or trying to realise the expression in a pair of eyes.

Every piece of hand-created art goes through an "ugly middle phase" where I’m convinced it’s rubbish. I have to physically work my way out of that hole. You can't "prompt" your way through a creative block; you have to practise your way through it.

Why I still choose the "Slow Way"

When you look at my work, you’re seeing a direct line from my brain to my hand. There is no machine translation or algorithmic bias.

• The Colour Palette: I don't use what’s "trending"; I use bespoke colour mixing to capture how I felt that morning.

• The Time Investment: If a piece took thirty hours, that’s thirty hours of my life stitched into the canvas. That artistic labour is what gives a piece its value.

• The Creative Intent: I know why I put that line there. A computer just knows it's statistically probable.

Supporting Living Artists in 2026

When you choose human-made art over AI-generated content, you’re preserving a craft. You’re supporting a studio, a lifelong pursuit of skill, and a piece of work that has actual soul and substance.

Thank you for valuing things made by actual human hands. It means the world to keep these traditional art forms alive in a digital age.