
I drew this in Procreate last night. I wanted to create artwork that inspired thought and intellectual exploration. In the end, I was the one who ended up thinking.
I’ve been inspired lately by the many artists I’ve discovered on Pinterest. They were creating art that doubled as an intellectual landscape. The shapes, colours and movement of this art reflected not only the intricacy of the artist’s mind, but also the cogs and wires of the world around them.
This art lit an invigorating fire in me, one that needed creativity to burn, so I turned on my iPad and got cracking.
I’ve been thinking about the integration of technology with the natural world, and how this affects the fabric of human society. My mind went everywhere from etymology to history and science. In my head, an intellectual masterpiece was unfolding.
Then I painted it.
And…well. Let’s just say it wasn’t the masterpiece I’d imagined. I’m still learning when it comes to art, and my skills certainly can’t match those of the artists I’d admired on Pinterest.
Still, I didn’t feel bad about the piece. Was it Picasso? No. Was it an artistic masterpiece? Most certainly not. But did it reflect some of the thoughts and emotions I wanted to convey? Did it communicate? I feel that it did. Perhaps not perfectly, but it reached out and made contact, and that was something.
Marilyn Monroe once said that imperfection is beauty. I think she’s right, and more. I think imperfection is perfection. Why should my art be perfect when my mind itself isn’t? Surely this non-Picasso, non-masterpiece is a more honest expression of my creativity than any AI-perfect imitation.
Our minds are beautifully imperfect. It’s what makes us human. It’s what sets us apart from machines, and it’s how we create the flawed un-masterpieces that we do.
I, for one, am happy this way.




