Human-Made Digital Art in the Age of AI

People often ask if I use AI in my work. It’s fair, while working, I spend most of my time behind a screen, charging my digital paintbrushes, creating textures until something begins to feel like something.

"Indents of love" by Kezleigh

But no, I don’t use AI.

It’s not a moral stance. It’s just that the kind of images I make come from somewhere memory-shaped, not data-shaped. They start with things I’ve actually seen. I collect those moments, then rebuild them digitally, stroke by stroke. My hands hover over a tablet instead of a canvas, but the process is still slow. It still asks for feeling, intuition, courage, and strength. 

AI doesn’t feel. It predicts. It’s brilliant at patterns, but memory isn’t a pattern. It’s not perfect either. That’s what I’m chasing when I work, the imperfect.

I do respect AI. I think it’s one of the most powerful extensions of human imagination we’ve ever built. It can open doors to expression that didn’t exist before. When I’m painting digitally, I’m not trying to make something the machine could do faster. I’m trying to make something it couldn’t feel the making of at all.

My devices are tools in the studio, though I do tend to name them. Still, they don’t care if the image feels too heavy or if the colour hurts. They don’t hesitate before hitting save. That’s all me. That hesitation, that flicker of doubt, that’s where the art comes from. 

"The mantle of my shoulders" by Kezleigh

I know AI art will keep evolving, and I’m not against it. It’s just not my language. My work sits somewhere between the human experience and what humans have made, between hand and the machine. 

It’s human-made, not because that’s better, but because that’s where I want my art to live.

– Kezleigh is a Toronto-based new media artist. 

To know more about her work, visit her about page, socials, and view her collection on her website.