Motion Studies from the Human Side of the Algorithm
Every new tool in the history of art has been greeted with the same suspicion. Photography would kill painting. Digital would kill photography. Sampling would kill music. It never does. What it kills, invariably, is the previous generation's monopoly on what counts as legitimate making. AI is no different, but this time around, the conversation is louder, faster, and considerably less patient with nuance. So here is some nuance: the videos on this page were not made by an algorithm. They were made by a designer with thirty years of visual judgment, a trained eye for composition and color, and an instinct for when something is working and when it isn't. The AI may have generated the raw material but it's the art director who made all the key decisions. That distinction is the whole ballgame.
The Workflow
The workflow begins, before a single prompt is typed, with a visual idea — a mood, a color relationship, a tension between organic form and geometric precision — and developed the same way any brief gets developed: through research, reference, and the slow accumulation of taste. The prompt is not the work. This bares repeating, THE PROMPT IS NOT THE WORK. The prompt is a sketch, its a zygote of an idea that takes shape over time, with focus and refined detail born from the artist’s mind. What comes back from the model is a only a starting point. Sometimes it's a surprise, and occasionally something genuinely better than what was asked for. The art director's job is to know the difference and to recognize which accidents carry visual charge and which are just noise. That judgment is not innate to the model's algorithm, it lives entirely on the human side of the process.
Color grading, editorial rhythm, the choice of which frame to hold and which to cut is not an automated process, mindlessly and synthetically assembled by blueprint. You can load style systems and layout rules into the algorithm, sure, but the results will always feel lifeless without the organic guiding touch.
The three motion studies on this page were each taken through multiple rounds of generation, selection, rejection, and refinement before they were assembled into sequences. Audio was generated with the artist’s sovereign creativity and placed by ear against the edit, not generated alongside it. The loop points were found by watching and listening until something clicked.
This is the same craft, the same art it’s always been, it’s just happening using new tools.
AI and AUTHORSHIP
The creative industry is having a necessary and often overheated argument about AI right now, and most of it is happening without enough specificity. The broad-brush position — that any use of generative AI constitutes a betrayal of authentic artistry — withers under examination. Authorship doesn’t resided in the tool but in the intention, the selection, the judgment, and the vision that shapes raw material into form and gives it meaning. By that measure, these motion studies are as authored as anything made with a camera or a brush or sequencer.
The legitimate concerns emerging from this brave new world deserve legitimate responses. For instance, on the matter of energy consumption (a huge imperative for life on this planet and a subject not to be belittled): the generation work for these three pieces, and most of the work I do, runs locally on a personal system via ComfyUI, installed and operated on-device rather than through cloud-based inference at scale. The ecological footprint I leave behind is meaningfully smaller than the conversation usually assumes.
Another equally hot and urgent controversy surrounds copyright and training data, a gargantuan and exceedingly important issue which deserves its own dedicated essay: I can only speak to my own approach and to that I would say that the outputs here are transformative works shaped by my own creative direction, not reproductions of source material. I crafted visuals, via a computing device, using textual descriptions born from my own observation and imagination. The model's accumulated vision is a medium, like light through a lens and it carries traces of everything it has learned, but what emerges, if crafted by the artist’s mind, is something brand new.
These three pieces represent an early chapter in a longer practice, a working method I am still defining, a visual language still being developed. The tools may change with time, but artists always see with the same eyes, hear with the same ears and craft with the same spirt.