Stop Fearing, Start Playing—AI in Your Art Practice

How our AI art challenge turned fear into play and expanded what’s possible—without losing artistic voice.

This month some of our community members took part in a creative challenge that required them to engage with an image-generating AI model. We put out 20 prompts (of which we used AI to help generate for us) and the intention of the challenge was for the artists to take the prompt, e.g. ‘lantern’ and give a creative instruction (aka prompt) to an AI model (Playground AI, Bing Image Creator, NightCafé, Dream by Wombo, etc).

Daniela and I have been long-time advocates for AI in the arts. A controversial standpoint, for sure! Over the last couple of years, we have noticed the divide between artists who eagerly incorporate AI into their everyday lives as a tool to enhance their productivity or creativity, versus those who do not. I have also been watching and listening to a wave of artists, globally, who are becoming more vehemently agitated and speaking out against AI in the arts.

I have a few reasons to explain why I have been one of the earlier adopters of AI, and ultimately a supporter of AI, PARTICULARLY in the arts. Most notably, my brother is an AI scientist living and working in Japan in one of the leading AI tech companies in the world. I have been privileged to walk alongside him as he grew interested in this field and then devoted his career to it. We merged our interests a couple of years ago when I wrote my masters of AI and screenprinting. (for the die-hard nerds, you can read my thesis here:

Read My Thesis

At the time, Dall-e (www.openart.ai) , an open source AI image generator, was released, and because of my brother's connections, I was one of the first to have full access to its beta program. And lifetime access to its further advancements. I also ended up working with ChatGPT because a lot of my friends in my limited non-art social circles kept talking about it at braais.

Another reason why I was so open to using this technology, I believe, is rooted in my identity and experience as a printmaker. Printmakers have always relied on technology as a third limb in their practice. The printing press. And modern printmakers are pushing the boundaries of how they can manipulate both old, obsolete technology and current tech. Computer technology has been pivotal in the expansion of the contemporary fine art printmaking field since the 80s, when universities across America and Europe introduced specific degrees that combined computer engineers with artists. Long before we were hearing the dial-up tone of the internet in our lounges, visual artists were learning how to code and mess around on this tech. So, honestly, it's no surprise that AI seemed to be more ‘tolerated’ within printmaker communities than, let's say, painters.

And then, perhaps the most poignant reason of all: if there’s a shortcut, I’ll use it. Perhaps this will be somewhat controversial for you, but I have never bought into the idea of the suffering tortured artist who pines away in their studio with lofty ideas and sacrifices their energy and time at the altar of some outdated notion of 'true' artistic worth. I don’t believe that hardship is a prerequisite for authenticity, or that beauty requires burnout. (Full disclosure, ChatGPT wrote that last paragraph for me.)

Using AI was a no-brainer for me. And it was exciting and offered me more possibilities for my work than I could have imagined. Only when I started hearing grumbles from my peers about how AI was going to steal our work or money did I realise that not everyone held the same opinion as I did. But I also realised, hardly any of these artists had the exposure and experience with AI that I had. I noticed a tinge of ‘fear of the unknown’ haunting my artist communities. This kind of fear can really hold you back. It’s like when my toddler was so scared of jumping off a platform, only to discover that it was less than a few cms.

And that’s really where this challenge came in. It wasn’t about proving AI is better, or that artists should rely on it, or even that everyone needs to like it. It was simply about opening the door, letting curiosity lead the way, and seeing what happens when you invite a new kind of collaborator into the room. The prompts were a starting point, but what the artists made of them was fascinating. Some used AI quite literally, others layered their own drawings, collage, or prints on top, and a few even used the images as raw material to spark something entirely different.

For me, the most beautiful part was watching people approach AI playfully rather than fearfully. Instead of seeing it as a threat, they began to treat it like any other medium: one you can test, push against, remix, or even reject. The challenge was proof that AI doesn’t erase artistic voice—it can actually amplify it, especially when handled with intention and a willingness to experiment.

Will AI in the arts remain controversial? Absolutely. And it should. Healthy debate pushes us to think more critically about ownership, ethics, and the role of technology in shaping culture. But I also believe that avoiding or demonising it entirely is a missed opportunity. If we, as artists, are supposed to be explorers of the unknown, then AI is simply one of the newest frontiers.

So my hope is that this past challenge planted a seed: that engaging with AI doesn’t diminish your work, but can expand the edges of your practice in ways you might not expect. You don’t have to become an AI evangelist overnight—but you also don’t need to stand frozen on the platform, too afraid to jump. The ground might be closer and softer than you think.

At the end of the day, this whole experiment reminded me why I’ve always loved being part of a creative community. We’re not here to all agree, or to make work that looks the same. We’re here to question, to test, to challenge, and to keep discovering new ways of seeing. AI is just one of the many tools that can enter that dialogue, and like all tools, its value is shaped by how we choose to use it.

For me, engaging with AI hasn’t been about replacing the hand of the artist—it’s been about expanding what’s possible, and allowing space for curiosity to have a voice. Whether you embrace it, resist it, or land somewhere in between, the important thing is to stay open enough to keep asking questions. Because maybe that’s the real role of the artist in times like these: not to have all the answers, but to keep showing up, keep experimenting, and keep finding meaning in unexpected places.

If this topic interests you, whether because you are a supporter or against AI in the arts, keep a watchful eye for my artist talk coming up soon by joining my Whatsapp Group!

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