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Young musician dies weeks after writing final song

Cat Janice has died aged 31 with her family by her side. The young musician, who had a large following on TikTok, had been battling cancer since January 2022 when doctors diagnosed her with sarcoma, a rare malignant tumour. She was declared cancer-free on July 22 that same year, following extensive surgery, chemo and radiation therapy. The mum-of-one was sadly re-diagnosed with cancer in June last year and despite fighting hard in the second round of her treatments, Janice told fans in January that her cancer "won" and that she "fought hard but sarcomas are too tough". Janice's family have announced her passing in a statement shared to her Instagram. "From her childhood home and surrounded by her loving family, Catherine peacefully entered the light and love of her heavenly creator," they said. "We are eternally thankful for the outpouring of love that Catherine and our family have received over the past few months." Before she died, Janice publicly announced that all her music would be signed over to her 7-year-old son, Loren, to support him in the future. Just weeks before her death, she released her final song Dance You Outta My Head in the hope it would spread "joy and fun". "My last joy would be if you pre saved my song 'Dance You Outta My Head' and streamed it because all proceeds go straight to my 7-year-old boy I'm leaving behind," she said, before the song was released. The song went viral, and took he number one spot in several countries and the number five spot on the Apple Itunes globally. Her family have said that the love she received for her final song, was unbelievable parting gift she could have ever received. "Cat saw her music go places she never expected and rests in the peace of knowing that she will continue to provide for her son through her music. This would not have been possible without all of you." Images: Instagram

Caring

How to write a memoir

How to start a memoir My Story by Russell Durling is my 85-year-old father’s account of the highlights of his life. He is writing and editing it, by hand, in several notepads I gave him as a Christmas gift to encourage the memoir project he had talked about for years. In it, my dad shares stories of summer jobs when he was a teenager, breaking up log jams on the Saint John River near his hometown of Meductic, New Brunswick. He’d move from log to floating log to reach shore again safely – and he loved every minute of this adventure, even when he’d land in the water. Reading an early draft, I learned new details of his history, like how when they were children, his cousin Clara had a pet crow. He also wrote about lessons learned from his Royal Canadian Mounted Police career, which was spent mostly in Nova Scotia, and shared insights about how to retire well. Pro tip from my father: to add a decade to your life, ditch the city (if you can). This memoir will be a treasure for our family, and I’m glad my father was finally able to start writing it, after spending a long time talking about wanting to. And I get it. Writing your life story can feel like a daunting project. But it’s worth it, both to the writer and their potential readers. If you’re having a hard time putting pen to paper, here’s advice on how to start a memoir. First, ask yourself why you're writing a memoir Esmeralda Cabral is a writer who works with people who wouldn’t normally consider themselves writers through her workshop, Writing Your Life. Often, she helps people create written treasures for their families, and sometimes they’re writing just for themselves. To her, and those she teaches, memoir writing can be a way of remembering and reflecting on experiences both positive and negative. “There is a clarity that comes when you put something down on paper,” says Cabral. “Remembering and writing helps us make sense of things. If you don’t write it down or tell it, it’s lost. And that’s a shame.” Begin by jotting down your reasons for writing your story. You could summarise those reasons on a Post-It and stick it on your fridge as an encouraging reminder to stay motivated. After all, there are many good reasons to write: to remember and reflect on your past, to capture your adventures, to share life lessons with family and friends, or maybe even to be published. Consider sharing your plan with a friend or family member who can check in and cheer your progress. Where to start You don’t have to start a memoir with day one. In fact, as much as your future readers love you, they may find that approach less than gripping. In her workshops, Cabral helps people to start a memoir by using a photo that is meaningful to them. She asks them to imagine sitting down with a good friend and telling them the story behind it. Or begin your writing with an event or story you are particularly interested in sharing. What grabs you as a big moment? Select a vivid memory and start there. “Plug your nose and jump in and write down all your memories as truthfully as you can,” summarises New York Times bestselling author Anne Lamott in Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life. Maybe start with a birthday party you remember, or your first-grade classroom. Try writing at the same time every day, so you can build a routine that will keep you putting words on the page. Write what you want In every life, there is light and shadow, joy and grief. If you are hesitant to write your memoir because you have difficult stories that might hurt others, there is a solution. First, “You don’t have to write about everything,” says Cabral. “It’s okay to have secrets that go with you to the grave.” Simply knowing you have the freedom to not go to the darkest of places in your writing can lift you over those psychological hurdles of hesitation. However, writing often takes on a life of its own. If you find yourself standing outside a door you had marked as “Do Not Enter,” consider Cabral’s advice: “Write about the hard things as if the person you are writing about is reading it. Be as kind as you can. Leave them with dignity.” Who is your audience? If you’re writing for your eyes only, as a kind of personal therapy, then you may be purposely opening doors and exploring what’s on the other side. That’s okay, too. You are creating a treasure for yourself, and that can be very healthy. Besides, whether the writing is for you or for others, you can always hit the delete button or visit the paper shredder later, if you wish. For now, just get it down. Stop yourself from sticking to rules Avoid letting worries over style or structure stop you from writing. If you care enough about grammar, you can ask someone you trust to read it over later on, or even hire a freelance editor if you’re really fretting over verb tenses. Remember, perfection in writing is not your goal. Readers are interested Writers also might hesitate to share stories because they fear they are boring. “I hear a lot of people say, ‘Oh no, that wouldn’t be interesting to anyone but me,’” says Cabral. But our life stories are of interest to others, whether they feel ordinary to us or if they really are extraordinary. They remind us we are all in this together. Writer Pauline Dakin, author of the award-winning 2017 memoir Run, Hide, Repeat: A Memoir of a Fugitive Childhood, was surprised how much the unusual story of her childhood on the run connected with readers. She’s since heard from hundreds of people. “They often begin by saying, ‘My family wasn’t nearly as crazy as yours, but…,’” she says. “They are relieved to hear my story. It makes them feel they are not alone.” We are all far more interesting than we know, she adds. It’s just a matter of believing we have a story to tell. Image credits: Getty Images This article originally appeared on <a href="https://www.readersdigest.com.au/uncategorized/how-to-write-a-memoir" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Reader's Digest</a>.

Books

Why you should encourage your grandchildren to write stories

In an article published in <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/41405103" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Language Arts</a>, educators who were interested in encouraging children to write were asked why it was important for children to be encouraged to write. Their reasons were varied and interesting, and worth considering for anyone who has a young child in their life – let’s take a look at some: 1. To entertain As humans, we tell stories for many reasons, but perhaps the foremost reason is that we want to entertain one another. By encouraging children to write their own stories, they can discover what entertains them, as well as what entertains others – well-told, engaging stories. 2. To stimulate the imagination By creating from nothing a story full of characters and original plots, a child’s imagination grows and develops. 3. To search for identity When children write their own stories, they can use the conflict and characters to take their first steps on their search for identity. The power simple stories can have on a child’s self-development is remarkable. 4. To improve reading and writing skills Children need to read and write, so we may as well find a way to make it more interesting for them. Not only will writing help kids learn how to read, it can also help them understand literary devices (suspense, twist, dramatic irony, etc.), and grammatical structures. Now that we’ve explored some of the reasons creativity in writing in our kids, let’s find some ways to help get them started: 5. Inspiration exploration When you’re spending time with your grandchildren, make a game out of looking for fun story inspirations. Interesting newspaper headlines, a unique-looking house, a colouring-in book. You could even keep a box full of story inspirations to explore together with your grandchildren. 6. Unblank the page Anyone who has ever sat down to write knows there’s nothing more intimidating than a blank page. To help kids out, try giving them the opening line to a story. You can create these yourself, find a list of opening lines on the internet, or even borrow the opening line of a book on your own shelf. 7. Work all of the mind If you find that your grandchildren have difficulty focusing on just words, encourage them to explore other aspects of their own creativity by using visuals. Storyboards, illustrations, or even writing the story as a comic book can help stimulate storytelling. Image credit: Shutterstock

Family & Pets

6 creative ways to make money

If you’re planning for retirement or have already retired, it’s quite likely you’re conscious about sources of income to support your lifestyle change. Leaving the nine-to-five workforce doesn’t have to mean you will need to start to rely solely on your nest egg and investments for money. Here are a few ways you mightn’t have thought of to keep the money coming in; Sell old stuff – Look around you at home. You may find an Aladdin’s cave of treasures, some of which are no longer any use to you. These can be a valuable source of pocket money – as long as your kids and grandkids don’t have eyes for them! There are an increasing number of ways to find potential customers hungry for your bargains. Sites like eBay, craigslist and Gumtree are the most popular if you’re digitally inclined, however don’t forget the old faithful garage sale – it’s also a great way to build your social connections with the local community. Rent a room or car – This is another big growth industry as people and businesses look at their assets and clever ways to create two-way benefits by making them available to rent – users get an affordable and convenient resource and you get the hip-pocket benefit for something often under-utilised. There’s the obvious ideas such as renting out spare rooms to boarders, but also consider unused car parking spaces, a car that you may not often drive, even your house for location shoots for films and commercials. Consulting or teaching – If you’ve left that 20-year corporate career but are still interested in options for work, there’s no shortage of ways to reinvent yourself. Think of how you can bridge your career experience and skills with part-time, consulting or tutoring roles. New work – You can also try something completely different such as being a film or television commercial extra (there are lots of roles for more mature characters), mystery shopper, dog walker, pet or child minder, tour guide or part time gardener. Online gigs – Online outsourcing and working remotely is more popular than ever, and there’s a broad range of work you can now find online and undertake from the convenience of your desktop. Look at market research, blogging, paid surveys and reviews as a few options. Websites like Airtasker offer everything from jobs you can do from home such as copywriting, data input and logo design through to trade jobs such as lawn mowing or deliveries. Home business – You might consider finally starting up your own business from home, whether it’s catering or cooking goodies for the local markets, making furniture, becoming the next Van Gough or writing thrillers. It’s a great way to realise a new or unexploited talent or skill and make some extra cash along the way. Another way of consolidating housing costs while supplementing income might be setting up a B&B or taking a role as an onsite property manager.

Money & Banking

How an inspired moment led to a creative new path after retirement

Seventy-year-old Bruce Blomfield is an inspirational character who decided to pursue his passion for yoga when he retired. Here 54-year-old yoga instructor, Tracy Adshead, interviews Bruce about his story and why he thinks that yoga offers something for everyone. Tracy: How did it all start? Bruce: When I decided to retire in 2014, I joined a yoga group on a trip to Nepal, where we assisted with resource development in a remote village and also practiced yoga with the spectacular Himalayas as a backdrop. Our yoga teacher on the trip was very enthusiastic about the success she was having with her chair yoga classes for seniors in her Australian hometown. This got me thinking – maybe this was something I could work toward as a retirement pursuit and offer as a service to other seniors in my community. Tracy: As someone over 60 were there any particular challenges to completing the teacher training? Bruce: I had a ‘mid-life crisis’ about 20 years ago and changed career direction, this entailed quite a bit of academic study which I thrived on. However, when I launched into the academic content of the yoga teacher training, along with the physical and emotional challenges, the brain took some ‘serious encouragement’ to take up the challenge; bit of a wake-up call. My brain believed it had been pensioned off! Anything worthwhile requires effort and the teacher-training programme certainly endorsed this! Squatting on the floor for long periods with my old bones was interesting and it quickly forced my brain and body out of retirement mode. Physical, mental/academic and emotional challenges meant I had to dig deep but the rewards have been enriching in every way – new friendships, a renewed personal commitment and confidence. What I experienced was an ongoing ‘tension’ between challenging myself with new mental, emotional and physical tasks whilst at the same time needing to offer myself, and my body forgiveness, along with a lot of self-love, when some parts were out of reach! Tracy: Have your experiences of teaching or practicing yoga changed your view of ageing at all? Bruce: I took up yoga about 14 years ago largely due to injuries from a 30+ year farming career – including a hip replacement. As I age and my yoga journey progresses, I gain great confidence and solace from the physical and mental benefits that yoga provides me with. Yoga offers something for everyone – there is no need to vegetate due to restricted mobility, or some form of physical incapacitation. I believe now that ageing does require you to maintain a certain non-judgemental demeanour about yourself as you stumble through. Tracy: What advice would you offer anyone approaching retirement about pursuing a new venture? Bruce: Probably for the first time in your life you can really ‘go with the flow’ – if you have a passion for something - give it a shot. Whether it works or not the experience is a huge growth curve – you learn so much about yourself. Maintain self-love it will bring you contentment, as I mentioned - anything worthwhile requires effort! Take a deep breath and give it a go. Tracy: What are you up to when you're not teaching yoga? Bruce: My wife and I have three children and six grandchildren who are a big part of our lives. We like to travel each year and spend time with friends. I also read, swim and have a gym routine which I practice on a regular basis. And of course now I’m very involved in my community teaching Chair Yoga at our local retirement village. I’m not sure who motivates who – but we have a blast during these classes! Images: Getty

Retirement Life

Creative ways to use leftover eggshells

Eggshells are surprisingly versatile, so you may want to keep them around. There are various ways you can use the shells around your home and garden! <h3 dir="ltr" role="presentation">1. Fertilise plants</h3> There are plenty of natural sources you can use, like compost and manure, but you can also use eggshells! Crushed eggshells are a great source of calcium, which is needed for healthy plant growth. Rinse out the eggshells, let them dry, then crush them into small pieces and sprinkle them in the garden soil. They will break down over time, providing an excellent source of calcium for your plants. <h3 dir="ltr">2. Feed the birds</h3> Just like plants, and us, birds rely on calcium for strength, and if you’re a bird fan, then this is a sure way to keep them coming back. They’re a great addition to a bird’s diet, especially during nesting season. Rinse out the eggshells and let them dry, then crush them into small pieces and sprinkle them around the garden for birds to find. <h3 dir="ltr">3. Make a scouring powder</h3> You can use eggshells to make your own scouring powder to clean pots and pans. Rinse out the shells and let them dry, then crush or grind them. Mix the crushed eggshells with baking soda to create a natural powder strong enough to remove tough stains and grime. Don’t egg-nor the power of eggshells! Image credit: Shutterstock

Home & Garden

Creative ways to store more in your tiny bathroom

Having a small bathroom doesn’t necessarily have to mean you don’t have enough space, you just have to think outside the box! Getting creative with storage can make the smallest of bathrooms look stylish. 1. Towel racks Using vertical space will help to clear out storage spaces built into your bathroom. Invest in a wall-mounted rack for towels, using bright-coloured towels can add a pop of colour to the room as well. 2. Basket Shelves Mount a set of baskets on your bathroom wall, you can keep cosmetics here or some candles and an indoor plant for decoration. 3. Adhesive hooks Make use of the space behind your bathroom door. Attach adhesive hooks to the inside of the door to store hair dryers, brushes and accessories. 4. Roll-away cart If you’ve got a really cluttered bathroom, use a wheeled cart to store your soaps, lotions, shampoo and conditioner. It saves a cluttered sink and you can roll it in and out for convenience. 5. Dual purpose mirror A two-in-one mirror can be a lifesaver for small spaces. Store your cosmetics, health care products and toothbrushes behind a stylish mirror. Don't think you can't have it all in a tiny space! With a creative mindset, you can fit all of your goodies into your bathroom. Image credit: Shutterstock

Home Hints & Tips

Chatbots set their sights on writing romance

Although most would expect artificial intelligence to keep to the science fiction realm, authors are facing mounting fears that they may soon have new competition in publishing, particularly as the sales of romantic fiction continue to skyrocket. And for bestselling author Julia Quinn, best known for writing the Bridgerton novel series, there’s hope that “that’s something that an AI bot can’t quite do.” For one, human inspiration is hard to replicate. Julia’s hit series - which went on to have over 20 million books printed in the United States alone, and inspired one of Netflix’s most-watched shows - came from one specific point: Julia’s idea of a particular duke. “Definitely the character of Simon came first,” Julia told BBC reporter Jill Martin Wrenn. Simon, in the Bridgerton series, is the Duke of Hastings, a “tortured character” with a troubled past. As Julia explained, she realised that Simon needed “to fall in love with somebody who comes from the exact opposite background” in a tale as old as time. And so, Julia came up with the Bridgerton family, who she described as being “the best family ever that you could imagine in that time period”. Meanwhile, Simon is estranged from his own father. Characterisation and unique relationship dynamics - platonic and otherwise - like those between Julia’s beloved characters are some of the key foundations behind any successful story, but particularly in the romance genre, where relationships are the entire driving force. It has long been suggested that the genre can become ‘formulaic’ if not executed well, and it’s this concern that prompts the idea that advancing artificial intelligence may have the capability to generate its own novel. ChatGPT is the primary problem point. The advanced language processing technology was developed by OpenAI and was trained using the likes of internet databases (such as Wikipedia), books, magazines, and the likes. The BBC reported that over 300 billion words were put into it. Because of this massive store of source material, the system can generate its own writing pieces, with the best of the bunch giving the impression that they were put together by a human mind. Across the areas of both fiction and non-fiction, it’s always learning. However, Julia isn’t too worried about her future in fiction just yet. Recalling how she’d checked out some AI romance a while ago, and how she’d found it “terrible”, she shared her belief at the time that there “could never be a good one.” But then the likes of ChatGPT entered the equation, and Julia admitted that “it makes me kind of queasy.” Still, she remains firm in her belief that human art will triumph. As she explained, “so much in fiction is about the writer’s voice, and I’d like to think that’s something that an AI bot can’t quite do.” And as for why romantic fiction itself remains so popular - and perhaps even why it draws the attention of those hoping to profit from AI generated work - she said that it’s about happy endings, noting that “there is something comforting and validating in a type of literature that values happiness as a worthy goal.” Images: @bridgertonnetflix / Instagram

Books

ChatGPT, DALL-E 2 and the collapse of the creative process

In 2022, OpenAI – one of the world’s leading artificial intelligence research laboratories – released the text generator <a href="https://chat.openai.com/chat">ChatGPT</a> and the image generator <a href="https://openai.com/dall-e-2/">DALL-E 2</a>. While both programs represent monumental leaps in natural language processing and image generation, they’ve also been met with apprehension. Some critics have <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2022/12/chatgpt-ai-writing-college-student-essays/672371/">eulogized the college essay</a>, while others have even <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2022/09/02/technology/ai-artificial-intelligence-artists.html">proclaimed the death of art</a>. But to what extent does this technology really interfere with creativity? After all, for the technology to generate an image or essay, a human still has to describe the task to be completed. The better that description – the more accurate, the more detailed – the better the results. After a result is generated, some further human tweaking and feedback may be needed – touching up the art, editing the text or asking the technology to create a new draft in response to revised specifications. Even the DALL-E 2 art piece that recently won first prize in the Colorado State Fair’s digital arts competition <a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/artificial-intelligence-art-wins-colorado-state-fair-180980703/">required a great deal of human “help”</a> – approximately 80 hours’ worth of tweaking and refining the descriptive task needed to produce the desired result. <blockquote class="twitter-tweet"> Today's moody <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/AIart?src=hash&ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#AIart</a> style is... 🖤 deep blacks ↘️ angular light 🧼 clean lines 🌅 long shadows More in thread, full prompts in [ALT] text! <a href="https://t.co/tUV0ZfQyYb">pic.twitter.com/tUV0ZfQyYb</a> — Guy Parsons (@GuyP) <a href="https://twitter.com/GuyP/status/1612539185214234624?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">January 9, 2023</a></blockquote> It could be argued that by being freed from the tedious execution of our ideas – by focusing on just having ideas and describing them well to a machine – people can let the technology do the dirty work and can spend more time inventing. But in our work as philosophers at <a href="https://www.umb.edu/ethics">the Applied Ethics Center at University of Massachusetts Boston</a>, we have written about <a href="https://doi.org/10.1515/mopp-2021-0026">the effects of AI on our everyday decision-making</a>, <a href="https://www.taylorfrancis.com/chapters/edit/10.4324/9780429470325-28/owning-future-work-alec-stubbs">the future of work</a> and <a href="https://doi.org/10.1007/s43681-022-00245-6">worker attitudes toward automation</a>. Leaving aside the very real ramifications of <a href="https://www.latimes.com/opinion/story/2022-12-21/artificial-intelligence-artists-stability-ai-digital-images">robots displacing artists who are already underpaid</a>, we believe that AI art devalues the act of artistic creation for both the artist and the public. <h2>Skill and practice become superfluous</h2> In our view, the desire to close the gap between ideation and execution is a chimera: There’s no separating ideas and execution. It is the work of making something real and working through its details that carries value, not simply that moment of imagining it. Artistic works are lauded not merely for the finished product, but for the struggle, the playful interaction and the skillful engagement with the artistic task, all of which carry the artist from the moment of inception to the end result. The focus on the idea and the framing of the artistic task amounts to <a href="https://theconversation.com/what-paul-mccartneys-the-lyrics-can-teach-us-about-harnessing-our-creativity-170987">the fetishization of the creative moment</a>. Novelists write and rewrite the chapters of their manuscripts. Comedians “write on stage” in response to the laughs and groans of their audience. Musicians tweak their work in response to a discordant melody as they compose a piece. In fact, the process of execution is a gift, allowing artists to become fully immersed in a task and a practice. It allows them to enter <a href="https://www.harpercollins.com/products/flow-mihaly-csikszentmihalyi?variant=32118048686114">what some psychologists call the “flow” state</a>, where they are wholly attuned to something that they are doing, unaware of the passage of time and momentarily freed from the boredom or anxieties of everyday life. This playful state is something that would be a shame to miss out on. <a href="https://www.press.uillinois.edu/books/?id=p073182">Play tends to be understood as an autotelic activity</a> – a term derived from the Greek words auto, meaning “self,” and telos meaning “goal” or “end.” As an autotelic activity, play is done for itself – it is self-contained and requires no external validation. For the artist, the process of artistic creation is an integral part, maybe even the greatest part, of their vocation. But there is no flow state, no playfulness, without engaging in skill and practice. And the point of ChatGPT and DALL-E is to make this stage superfluous. <h2>A cheapened experience for the viewer</h2> But what about the perspective of those experiencing the art? Does it really matter how the art is produced if the finished product elicits delight? We think that it does matter, particularly because the process of creation adds to the value of art for the people experiencing it as much as it does for the artists themselves. Part of the experience of art is knowing that human effort and labor has gone into the work. Flow states and playfulness notwithstanding, art is the result of skillful and rigorous expression of human capabilities. Recall <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUOlnvGpcbs">the famous scene</a> from the 1997 film “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119177/">Gattaca</a>,” in which a pianist plays a haunting piece. At the conclusion of his performance, he throws his gloves into the admiring audience, which sees that the pianist has 12 fingers. They now understand that he was genetically engineered to play the transcendent piece they just heard – and that he could not play it with the 10 fingers of a mere mortal. Does that realization retroactively change the experience of listening? Does it take away any of the awe? <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2004/04/the-case-against-perfection/302927/">As the philosopher Michael Sandel notes</a>: Part of what gives art and athletic achievement its power is the process of witnessing natural gifts playing out. People enjoy and celebrate this talent because, in a fundamental way, it represents the paragon of human achievement – the amalgam of talent and work, human gifts and human sweat. <h2>Is it all doom and gloom?</h2> Might ChatGPT and DALL-E be worth keeping around? Perhaps. These technologies could serve as catalysts for creativity. It’s possible that the link between ideation and execution can be sustained if these AI applications are simply viewed as mechanisms for creative imagining – <a href="https://openai.com/blog/dall-e-2-extending-creativity/">what OpenAI calls</a> “extending creativity.” They can generate stimuli that allow artists to engage in more imaginative thinking about their own process of conceiving an art piece. Put differently, if ChatGPT and DALL-E are the end results of the artistic process, something meaningful will be lost. But if they are merely tools for fomenting creative thinking, this might be less of a concern. For example, a game designer could ask DALL-E to provide some images about what a Renaissance town with a steampunk twist might look like. A writer might ask about descriptors that capture how a restrained, shy person expresses surprise. Both creators could then incorporate these suggestions into their work. But in order for what they are doing to still count as art – in order for it to feel like art to the artists and to those taking in what they have made – the artists would still have to do the bulk of the artistic work themselves. Art requires makers to keep making. <h2>The warped incentives of the internet</h2> Even if AI systems are used as catalysts for creative imaging, we believe that people should be skeptical of what these systems are drawing from. It’s important to pay close attention to the incentives that underpin and reward artistic creation, particularly online. Consider the generation of AI art. These works draw on images and video that <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2022/nov/12/when-ai-can-make-art-what-does-it-mean-for-creativity-dall-e-midjourney">already exist</a> online. But the AI is not sophisticated enough – nor is it incentivized – to consider whether works evoke a sense of wonder, sadness, anxiety and so on. They are not capable of factoring in aesthetic considerations of novelty and cross-cultural influence. Rather, training ChatGPT and DALL-E on preexisting measurements of artistic success online will tend to replicate the dominant incentives of the internet’s largest platforms: <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/josp.12489">grabbing and retaining attention</a> for the sake of data collection and user engagement. The catalyst for creative imagining therefore can easily become subject to an addictiveness and attention-seeking imperative rather than more transcendent artistic values. It’s possible that artificial intelligence is at a precipice, one that evokes a sense of “<a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2004/04/the-case-against-perfection/302927/">moral vertigo</a>” – the uneasy dizziness people feel when scientific and technological developments outpace moral understanding. Such vertigo can lead to apathy and detachment from creative expression. If human labor is removed from the process, what value does creative expression hold? Or perhaps, having opened Pandora’s box, this is an indispensable opportunity for humanity to reassert the value of art – and to push back against a technology that may prevent many real human artists from thriving. Image credits: Getty Images This article originally appeared on <a href="https://theconversation.com/chatgpt-dall-e-2-and-the-collapse-of-the-creative-process-196461" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Conversation</a>.

Art

"Writing songs is my therapy": Ed Sheeran reveals further heartbreak

In the wake of the tragic news of the <a href="https://www.oversixty.com.au/news/news/tragedy-strikes-ed-sheeran-tour" target="_blank" rel="noopener">heartbreaking loss</a> suffered by his co-writer and touring partner, Ed Sheeran has taken to Instagram to share his struggle following a series of life-changing events – and how this has altered the course of his new album, Subtract. The singer shared how he “spiralled” into depression last year after his wife, Cherry, was diagnosed with a tumour during her second pregnancy, which couldn’t be treated until after she gave birth. The star explained that he was "trying to sculpt the perfect acoustic album" for almost a decade, when the series of events changed everything. “Writing songs is my therapy. It helps me make sense of my feelings. I wrote without thought of what the songs would be, I just wrote whatever tumbled out. “And in just over a week, I replaced a decade’s worth of work with my deepest darkest thoughts," he captioned. “Within the space of a month, my pregnant wife got told she had a tumour, with no route to treatment until after the birth. “My best friend Jamal [Edwards], a brother to me, died suddenly and I found myself standing in court defending my integrity and career as a songwriter. I was spiralling through fear, depression and anxiety. “I felt like I was drowning, head below the surface, looking up but not being able to break through for air". <blockquote class="instagram-media" style="background: #FFF; border: 0; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: 0 0 1px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.5),0 1px 10px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.15); margin: 1px; max-width: 540px; min-width: 326px; padding: 0; width: calc(100% - 2px);" data-instgrm-captioned="" data-instgrm-permalink="https://www.instagram.com/p/CpPY7qyI6XB/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading" data-instgrm-version="14"> <div style="padding: 16px;"> <div style="display: flex; flex-direction: row; align-items: center;"> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 50%; flex-grow: 0; height: 40px; margin-right: 14px; width: 40px;"> </div> <div style="display: flex; flex-direction: column; flex-grow: 1; justify-content: center;"> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 4px; flex-grow: 0; height: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; width: 100px;"> </div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 4px; flex-grow: 0; height: 14px; width: 60px;"> </div> </div> </div> <div style="padding: 19% 0;"> </div> <div style="display: block; height: 50px; margin: 0 auto 12px; width: 50px;"> </div> <div style="padding-top: 8px;"> <div style="color: #3897f0; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 550; line-height: 18px;">View this post on Instagram</div> </div> <div style="padding: 12.5% 0;"> </div> <div style="display: flex; flex-direction: row; margin-bottom: 14px; align-items: center;"> <div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 50%; height: 12.5px; width: 12.5px; transform: translateX(0px) translateY(7px);"> </div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; height: 12.5px; transform: rotate(-45deg) translateX(3px) translateY(1px); width: 12.5px; flex-grow: 0; margin-right: 14px; margin-left: 2px;"> </div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 50%; height: 12.5px; width: 12.5px; transform: translateX(9px) translateY(-18px);"> </div> </div> <div style="margin-left: 8px;"> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 50%; flex-grow: 0; height: 20px; width: 20px;"> </div> <div style="width: 0; height: 0; border-top: 2px solid transparent; border-left: 6px solid #f4f4f4; border-bottom: 2px solid transparent; transform: translateX(16px) translateY(-4px) rotate(30deg);"> </div> </div> <div style="margin-left: auto;"> <div style="width: 0px; border-top: 8px solid #F4F4F4; border-right: 8px solid transparent; transform: translateY(16px);"> </div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; flex-grow: 0; height: 12px; width: 16px; transform: translateY(-4px);"> </div> <div style="width: 0; height: 0; border-top: 8px solid #F4F4F4; border-left: 8px solid transparent; transform: translateY(-4px) translateX(8px);"> </div> </div> </div> <div style="display: flex; flex-direction: column; flex-grow: 1; justify-content: center; margin-bottom: 24px;"> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 4px; flex-grow: 0; height: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; width: 224px;"> </div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 4px; flex-grow: 0; height: 14px; width: 144px;"> </div> </div> <p style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 8px; overflow: hidden; padding: 8px 0 7px; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;"><a style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CpPY7qyI6XB/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A post shared by Ed Sheeran (@teddysphotos)</a> </div> </blockquote> The four-time Grammy award winner shared that this album was a "trapdoor" into his soul, and a way for him to make sense of everything he's been through. Sheeran announced the birth of his second daughter, Jupiter, in May of last year. Subtract will be released on the 5th of May 2023, through Asylum/Atlantic. Image: Getty

Caring

Two thirds of Australian authors are women – new research finds they earn just $18,200 a year from their writing

Most Australian book authors do not earn enough income from their creative practice to make ends meet. They rely on other jobs and other support, such as a partner’s income. In the 2020-21 financial year, the average personal income in Australia was approximately $A70,000. Only one-third of authors earned this amount from all their sources of income combined. The average total income for authors, including all sources of income, was $64,900. And the amount they earned from their books alone was far, far less. In 2022, <a href="https://researchers.mq.edu.au/en/projects/2022-national-survey-of-australian-book-authors" target="_blank" rel="noopener">we surveyed over 1,000 Australian book authors</a>. We found the average annual income authors derive from practising as an author is $18,200. That’s an increase from $15,100 seven years ago (adjusted for inflation). But it’s a modest increase from a low base: it represents growth of less than 3% per annum over seven years. Book writing is a profession dominated by women, who make up two thirds of all Australian authors. More than 80% of authors have attended university and almost half have completed a postgraduate degree – a high level of education that is not matched by high income. In our survey (which followed up on <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-to-read-the-australian-book-industry-in-a-time-of-change-49044" target="_blank" rel="noopener">an earlier 2015 study</a>), we asked Australian book authors about their income and how they allocate their time, the effect of the Covid-19 pandemic on their career, their relationships with their readers and publishers, and more. We wanted to find out what has changed in the last seven years – and whether conditions are improving for Australian authors. <h2>Authors’ earnings and ‘portfolio careers’</h2> If you are planning a career as an author, what could you expect to earn? Education authors earned the highest average income from their practice as an author ($27,300), followed by children’s ($26,800) and genre fiction ($23,300) authors. Even though these figures are above the overall average for authors, they are not enough to live on, to support a family, or to pay rent or a mortgage. At the other end of the spectrum are poets, who earned an average of $5,700 from their creative practice. Literary authors earned $14,500, which is a decrease in real terms since 2015. To break this down, an author’s income from their creative practice includes advances from publishers, royalties on book sales, fees for live appearances, Public Lending Rights (PLR) and Education Lending Rights (ELR) paid by the government for the use of their work in libraries and educational institutions, prizes and fellowships, and rights sales for film, TV etc. Artists’ careers are often known as “portfolio careers” – which sounds more glamorous than the bracing reality of juggling multiple commitments. Some authors have another career as a journalist, medical specialist, academic, teacher or public figure that provides their main source of income. Several authors wrote about the uneven timing of income from their work. One literary author wrote: It’s difficult to capture the life and income of an author because for up to five years nothing might happen except writing, then for about 18 months there is a flurry of (a tiny amount) of cash and editing, and then a month or two of publicity. <h2>The difficulty of spending time to write</h2> We asked authors what prevents them from spending more time writing. Only 6% of authors reported no competing demands for their writing time. Domestic responsibilities affect almost two-thirds of trade authors (62%). One literary author wrote: <blockquote> I managed to devote regular time to writing alongside a full-time job pre-children but the addition of a baby (now toddler) to life has rendered those opportunities non-existent. I now meet my obligations to my publisher by taking annual and sometimes unpaid leave to work on my author duties. It has certainly slowed my career and I can no longer devote time to learning experiences, networking, or applications for prizes, grants and residencies. </blockquote> Insufficient income is a factor for over half of all authors. Some commented that their ability to spend time writing was enhanced by other sources of financial security. A creative non-fiction author commented: <blockquote> Having my first book published the year before I turned 60 meant I faced less financial issues due to owning my own home, superannuation and financial support from my partner. However, if I was less financially established it would be very difficult to live on what I make as an author. </blockquote> The financial insecurity inherent to the profession may contribute to the recognised lack of diversity of Australian authors: a <a href="https://www.smh.com.au/culture/books/fewer-than-1-in-10-aussie-books-published-by-people-of-colour-report-finds-20221013-p5bpj4.html" target="_blank" rel="noopener">recent report</a> found only 7% of books published in 2018 were written by people of colour. As the UK Society of Authors <a href="https://www.societyofauthors.org/News/News/2019/May/Report-on-authors-earnings-diversity-implications" target="_blank" rel="noopener">noted</a> a few years ago, “people from less privileged backgrounds who want to write are less likely to have additional sources of household income”. In the 2022 survey, we heard from established, prize-winning authors – including some who’d had a bestselling book earlier in their career – who were contemplating no longer writing books, due to dwindling opportunities for mid-list writers. We all stand to lose if established authors leave the profession. <h2>Impact of the Covid-19 pandemic</h2> Like many Australians, the majority of authors experienced disruption and hardship due to the Covid-19 pandemic. Approximately one-third of authors reported large or modest increases in levels of financial stress. Authors promote their books through live appearances in bookstores, schools, libraries, writers’ festivals and other events. Over half of authors experienced a reduction in promotional opportunities for their next book. One creative non-fiction author wrote: <blockquote> My book [was] released into closed bookstores and I still find myself questioning if there is anything I can do to improve sales, eight months on. It was, and is, devastating. </blockquote> The lockdowns meant that over one third of authors experienced a large decrease in income from paid appearances. We found it difficult to identify a single factor that meant authors were negatively affected by the pandemic. A range of factors could be influential: whether an author lived in a state which experienced lengthy lockdowns, whether they had a book released (and if so, if they had an established large readership base or not), whether they had carer responsibilities (which could include elderly relatives as well as children), and whether they were experiencing financial stress. <h2>Small, good news – and what’s next?</h2> One piece of good news is that authors are 10% more likely to be satisfied with their main publisher than they were seven years ago. Nearly one-third (31.6%) of authors are very satisfied with their main publisher – an increase from just 19.6% in 2015. Authors, large and small publishers, booksellers and libraries are working on joint initiatives to promote Australia’s reading culture in 2023. The industry awaits the federal government’s national cultural policy with anticipation. This article originally appeared on <a href="https://theconversation.com/two-thirds-of-australian-authors-are-women-new-research-finds-they-earn-just-18-200-a-year-from-their-writing-195426" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Conversation</a>. Image: Shutterstock

Books

How a sense of purpose can link creativity to happiness

There are plenty of famous artists who have produced highly creative work while they were deeply unhappy or suffering from poor mental health. In 1931, the poet T.S. Eliot <a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/article/615958">wrote a letter</a> to a friend describing his “considerable mental agony” and how he felt “on the verge of insanity”. Vincent Van Gogh eventually took his own lifet, <a href="https://ajp.psychiatryonline.org/doi/pdfplus/10.1176/appi.ajp.159.4.519">having written</a> of “horrible fits of anxiety” and “feelings of emptiness and fatigue”. So how are creativity and happiness linked? Does happiness make us more creative or does creativity make us happy? Most of the research so far seems to indicate that a <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S074959780800054X">positive mood enhances creativity</a>. But others have <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/10400419.2003.9651405">challenged this argument</a>, suggesting a more complex relationship. For example, a <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/23063328">large study</a> in Sweden found that authors were more likely to suffer from psychiatric disorders compared to people from non-creative professions. Even in the corporate world, it has been suggested that negative emotions can <a href="https://www.london.edu/lbsr/why-negative-emotions-can-spark-creativity">spark creativity</a> and that “anxiety can focus the mind”, resulting in improved creative output. Meanwhile, the psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi conducted <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Creativity-Psychology-Discovery-Mihaly-Csikszentmihaly/dp/0062283251/ref=asc_df_0062283251/?tag=googshopuk-21&linkCode=df0&hvadid=310973726618&hvpos=1o1&hvnetw=g&hvrand=8230695318472149356&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=1006567&hvtargid=pla-435435502203&psc=1&th=1&psc=1">extensive research</a> on creative individuals across many disciplines, which found a common sense among all the people he interviewed: that they loved what they did, and that “designing or discovering something new” was one of their most enjoyable experiences. It seems, then, that research to date supports a variety of different views, and I believe one of the reasons for this relates to time scale. A key factor that affects creativity is attention. In the short term, you can get people to pay attention using external rewards (such as money) or by creating pressure to meet urgent deadlines. But it is much harder to sustain creativity over longer periods using these approaches – so the role of happiness becomes increasingly important. My <a href="https://20twentybusinessgrowth.com/">experience of working</a> with a large number of commercial organisations in Wales (and my own career in the public and private sectors) is that creativity is often not sustained within an organisation, even when it is encouraged (or demanded) by senior management. Typical reasons for this lack of sustained creativity are pressures and stresses at work, the fear of judgement, the fear of failure, or employee apathy. One way to tackle this might be to aspire to psychologist Paul Dolan’s <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Happiness-Design-Finding-Pleasure-Everyday/dp/0141977531/ref=asc_df_0141977531/?tag=googshopuk-21&linkCode=df0&hvadid=310805565966&hvpos=1o2&hvnetw=g&hvrand=3028055397477065849&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=1006567&hvtargid=pla-453838269765&psc=1&th=1&psc=1">definition of happiness</a>as the “experiences of pleasure and purpose over time”. He describes purpose as relating to “fulfilment, meaning and worthwhileness” and believes we are at our happiest with a “balance between pleasure and purpose”. Therefore, if your work is meaningful, fulfilling and worthwhile it helps in supporting your happiness. It also has the added advantage of making you want to engage and pay attention (rather than having to). Bringing <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xegfNVFgxBs">purpose and creativity together</a> helps provide the intrinsic motivation for undertaking creativity, what has been called the “<a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/11946306_Self-Determination_Theory_and_the_Facilitation_of_Intrinsic_Motivation_Social_Development_and_Well-Being">energy for action</a>”, and enables creativity to be sustained. So, if you want to be creative in the long term, the key questions to ask yourself are whether you are doing work that is interesting and enjoyable for you, and is that work of value to you? Or, as the American academic Teresa Amabile <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Progress-Principle-Ignite-Engagement-Creativity/dp/142219857X/ref=sr_1_1?adgrpid=52852474973&gclid=CjwKCAjw7anqBRALEiwAgvGgm7iZtdMahFJqhgxsC2Vr0P4aDxPC5aF1N6xhibIux1kR4TIfVxrnbRoCIE0QAvD_BwE&hvadid=259142341871&hvdev=c&hvlocphy=9045373&hvnetw=g&hvpos=1t1&hvqmt=e&hvrand=4572506516620655268&hvtargid=aud-613328383159%3Akwd-300577486763&hydadcr=11464_1788015&keywords=the+progress+principle&qid=1565170905&s=gateway&sr=8-1">puts it</a>, do you “perceive your work as contributing value to something or someone who matters”. <h2>Performance anxiety</h2> Another question to ask yourself is: are you helping others gain that “energy for action”, whether you are a manager in a company or a teacher in a school. In situations where creative work has not been associated with happiness, such as the example of some prominent artists and authors, it might well be that their creative work was still driven by a sense of purpose and that other factors made them unhappy. Another common element affecting the happiness of many creative people is the pressure they put on themselves to be creative, something I have often <a href="https://repository.cardiffmet.ac.uk/handle/10369/10281?locale-attribute=cy">seen with my own students</a>. This kind of pressure and stress can result in creative blocks and consequently perpetuate the problem. So maybe the solution in these situations is to seek pleasure rather than purpose, as a positive mood does seem to enhance creativity, or to encourage people to be more playful. For those creative people who suffer from mental health problems, it is a much more complicated picture. But perhaps the act of undertaking creative activity can at least help in the healing process. Image credits: Getty Images This article originally appeared on <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-a-sense-of-purpose-can-link-creativity-to-happiness-115335" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Conversation</a>.

Art

The 5,000-year history of writer’s block

Ann Patchett, who has written eight novels and five books of nonfiction, says that when faced with writer’s block, sometimes it seems that the muse has “<a href="http://www.annpatchett.com/titles#/thisisthestoryofahappymarriage/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">gone out back for a smoke</a>.” It doesn’t matter whether you’re an award-winning novelist or a high schooler tasked with writing an essay for English class: The fear and frustration of writing doesn’t discriminate. My most recent book, “<a href="https://broadviewpress.com/product/a-writing-studies-primer/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A Writing Studies Primer</a>,” includes a chapter on gods, goddesses and patron saints of writing. When conducting research, I was struck by how writers have consistently sought divine inspiration and intercession. It turns out that frustrated writers who pine for a muse or help from above are adhering to a 5,000-year-old tradition. <div data-id="17"> </div> <h2>The first writers look to the skies</h2> The first writing system, <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/cuneiform" target="_blank" rel="noopener">cuneiform</a>, arose in Sumer around 3200 BC to keep track of wheat, transactions, real estate and recipes. Scribes used clay tablets to record the information – think of them as early spreadsheets. Originally the Sumerian goddess of grain, <a href="https://www.worldhistory.org/Nisaba/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nisaba</a> became associated with writing. She was depicted holding a gold stylus and clay tablet. As it was common for people to adopt a god or goddess for their professions, a new class of scribes latched onto Nisaba. Practice tablets from <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/367648" target="_blank" rel="noopener">schools that trained young scribes</a> invoke her name – “Praise be to Nisaba!” Poets trumpeted her influence and <a href="https://twitter.com/anctxtmodtablet/status/1097890316458360832" target="_blank" rel="noopener">credited her for giving beautiful handwriting</a> to diligent students. Her Egyptian counterpart was <a href="https://ancientegyptonline.co.uk/seshat/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Seshat</a>, whose name <a href="https://www.worldhistory.org/Seshat/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">translates to</a> “female scribe.” Identifiable by a stylized papyrus as her headdress and a stylus in her right hand, Seshat guided the reed pens of scribes as priests communicated with the divine. Writing was all about communicating with the gods, and the Greeks and Romans continued this tradition. They turned to the nine daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, known collectively as <a href="https://www.ancient-origins.net/myths-legends-europe/nine-muses-0013523" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the Muses</a>. Calliope stands out most notably, not only because a musical instrument was named after her, but also because she was considered the foremost of the sisters for her eloquence. The Muses <a href="https://www.wsj.com/articles/SB124242927020125473" target="_blank" rel="noopener">have since evolved</a> into one overarching “muse” that serves as a source of inspiration. <h2>Global gods and goddesses of writing</h2> Gods and other legendary figures of writing are not limited to Western civilization. In China, the historian Cangjie, who lived in the 27th century B.C., is said to have created the <a href="https://www.ewccenter.com/cangjie-and-the-invention-of-chinese-characters" target="_blank" rel="noopener">characters of the Chinese language</a>. Legend has it that he was inspired by the pattern of veins on a turtle. (Back then, the Chinese <a href="https://www.worldhistory.org/Oracle_Bones/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">often wrote on turtle shells</a>.) A <a href="https://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Fu_Xi" target="_blank" rel="noopener">competing story</a> says that cultural folk hero Fuxi and his sister Nüwa created the system of Chinese characters circa 2000 B.C. Yet it is Cangjie’s name that lives on in the Cangjie Input Method, which refers to the system that allows Chinese characters <a href="https://www.cangjieinput.com/?lang=en" target="_blank" rel="noopener">to be typed using a standard QWERTY keyboard</a>. In India, writers still invoke the elephant-headed Hindu god <a href="https://www.denverartmuseum.org/en/blog/ganesha-chathurthi-birth-elephant-headed-god" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Ganesha</a> <a href="https://www.thestatesman.com/features/common-writing-rooms-well-known-authors-lord-ganesh-1502544876.html" target="_blank" rel="noopener">before putting ink to paper</a>. Known as a remover of obstacles, Ganesha can be especially meaningful for those struggling with writer’s block. There’s also <a href="https://www.worldhistory.org/Sarasvati/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Saraswati</a>, the Hindu goddess of learning and the arts, who’s renowned for her eloquence. In Mesoamerica, Mayan culture looked to <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Itzamna" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Itzamná</a> as the deity who provided the pillars of civilization: writing, calendars, medicine and worship rituals. His depiction as a toothless and wise old man signaled that he was not to be feared, an important characteristic for someone promoting an anxiety-inducing process like writing. <h2>Enter the patron saints</h2> In Christianity, <a href="https://theconversation.com/who-are-patron-saints-and-why-do-catholics-venerate-them-148508" target="_blank" rel="noopener">patron saints</a> are exemplars or martyrs who serve as role models and heavenly advocates. Various groups – professions, people with a certain illness and even entire nations – will adopt a patron saint. Within the Catholic Church, a range of patron saints can serve as inspiration for writers. <a href="https://theconversation.com/st-brigid-the-compassionate-sensible-female-patron-saint-of-ireland-gets-a-lot-less-recognition-than-st-patrick-176659" target="_blank" rel="noopener">St. Brigid of Ireland</a>, who lived from 451 to 525, is the patron saint of printing presses and poets. A contemporary of the better-known <a href="https://theconversation.com/10-things-to-know-about-the-real-st-patrick-92253" target="_blank" rel="noopener">St. Patrick</a>, St. Brigid established a monastery for women, which included a school of art that became famous for its handwritten, decorative manuscripts, particularly the <a href="http://www.kildarearchsoc.ie/the-book-of-kildare/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Book of Kildare</a>. Following St. Brigit in Ireland is St. Columba, who lived from 521 to 597 and founded the influential abbey at Iona, an island off the coast of Scotland. A renowned scholar, St. Columba transcribed over 300 books over the course of his life. The influence of patron saints dedicated to literacy – reading and writing – continued long after the Middle Ages. In 1912, the <a href="https://www.css.edu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">College of Saint Scholastica</a> was founded in Minnesota in tribute to <a href="https://d.lib.rochester.edu/teams/text/whatley-saints-lives-in-middle-english-collections-life-of-st-scholastica-introduction" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Scholastica</a> (480-543), who with her twin brother, Benedict (died in 547), enjoyed discussing sacred texts. Both Italian patron saints came to be associated with books, reading and schooling. <h2>Objects charged with power</h2> Some writers may think supernatural figures seem a bit too far removed from the physical world. Fear not – there are magical objects that they can touch for inspiration and help, such as talismans. Derived from the ancient Greek word telein, which means to “fulfill,” it was an object that – like an amulet – protected the bearer and facilitated good fortune. Today, you can buy talismans drawn on ancient Celtic symbols that purport to help with the writing process. <a href="https://www.moonlightmysteries.com/pewter-talisman-for-poets-writers-and-actors/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">One vendor promises</a> “natural inspiration and assist in all of your writing endeavors.” Another supplier, <a href="https://www.magickalneeds.com/product/talisman-for-poets/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Magickal Needs</a>, advertises a similar product that supposedly helps “one find the right word at the most opportune moment.” Others turn to crystals. A <a href="https://www.etsy.com/au/listing/831873886/healing-crystals-for-writers-writers" target="_blank" rel="noopener">writer’s block crystals gift set</a> available through Etsy offers agate, carnelian, tiger eye, citrine, amethyst and clear quartz crystals to help those struggling to formulate sentences. <h2>What makes a writer?</h2> What drove the creation of divine beings and objects that can inspire and intercede on the behalf of writers? To me, it’s no mystery why writers have sought divine intervention for 5,000 years. Sure, tallying counts of sheep or bushels of grain might seem like rote work. Yet early in the development of writing systems, the physical act of writing was exceedingly difficult – and one of the reasons schoolchildren prayed for help with their handwriting. Later, the act of creation – coming up with ideas, communicating them clearly and engaging readers – could make writing feel like a herculean task. Ironically, this complex skill does not necessarily get easier, even with lots of practice. The romantic image of the <a href="https://theconversation.com/genius-in-the-garret-or-member-of-the-guild-60175" target="_blank" rel="noopener">writer in the garret</a> doesn’t do justice to the tedious reality of churning out words, one after another. In his memoir “<a href="https://stephenking.com/works/nonfiction/on-writing-a-memoir-of-the-craft.html" target="_blank" rel="noopener">On Writing</a>,” Stephen King reflected, “Amateurs sit and wait for inspiration, the rest of us just get up and go to work.” At the suggestion of a friend, the writer Patchett attached a <a href="http://www.annpatchett.com/titles#/thisisthestoryofahappymarriage/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">sign-in sheet to the door of her writing room</a> to ensure she wrote every day. No matter how accomplished a writer, he or she will inevitably struggle with writer’s block. Pulitzer Prize−winning author John McPhee, who began contributing to The New Yorker in 1963, details his writer’s block in a <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2013/04/29/draft-no-4" target="_blank" rel="noopener">2013 article</a>: “Block. It puts some writers down for months. It puts some writers down for life.” Another famous writer for The New Yorker, Joseph Mitchell, was struck by <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/av/magazine-32602862" target="_blank" rel="noopener">writer’s block in 1964</a> and simply sat and stared at his typewriter for 30 years. I’ve even wrestled with this article, writing and rewriting it in my head a dozen times before actually typing the first word. Poet and satirist Dorothy Parker <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/projects/cp/obituaries/archives/dorothy-parker" target="_blank" rel="noopener">once said</a>, “I hate writing; I love having written.” You and me both, Dorothy. This article originally appeared on <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-5-000-year-history-of-writers-block-190037" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Conversation</a>. Image: Shutterstock

Books

Have you fallen for the myth of ‘I can’t draw’? Do it anyway – and reap the reward

Drawing is a powerful tool of communication. It helps build self-understanding and can <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0276237420923290">boost</a> mental health. But our current focus on productivity, outcomes and “talent” has us thinking about it the wrong way. Too many believe the <a href="http://www.visuallanguagelab.com/P/NC_drawingdevelopment.pdf">myth</a>of “I can’t draw”, when in fact it’s a skill built through practice. Dedicated practice is hard, however, if you’re constantly asking yourself: “What’s the point of drawing?” As I argue in a new <a href="https://www.closure.uni-kiel.de/closure8/fisher">paper</a> in <a href="https://www.closure.uni-kiel.de/start_en">Closure E-Journal for Comic Studies</a>, we need to reframe our concept of what it means to draw, and why we should do it – especially if you think you can’t. Devoting a little time to drawing each day may make you happier, more employable and sustainably productive. <h2>The many benefits of drawing</h2> I’m a keen doodler who turned a hobby into a PhD and then a career. I’ve taught all ages at universities, in library workshops and online. In that time, I’ve noticed many people do not recognise their own potential as a visual artist; self-imposed limitations are common. That’s partly because, over time, drawing as a skill set has been devalued. <a href="https://mili.eu/insights/sunday-times-essential-workers-poll-response">A 2020 poll</a> ranked artist as the top non-essential job. But new jobs are emerging all the time for visual thinkers who can translate complex information into easily understood visuals. Big companies <a href="https://inkfactorystudio.com/">hire</a> comic creators to document corporate meetings visually, so participants can track the flow of ideas in real time. Cartoonists are paid to draft <a href="https://australiacouncil.gov.au/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/Graphic-Storytellers-at-Work-GSAW-Report-Case-Study-One.pdf">innovative, visual contracts</a> for law firms. Perhaps you were told as a child to stop doodling and get back to work. While drawing is often quiet and introspective, it’s certainly not a “waste of time”. On the contrary, it has significant mental health benefits and should be cultivated in children and adults alike. How we feel influences <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/261661107_An_Introduction_to_the_Diagnostic_Drawing_Series_A_Standardized_Tool_for_Diagnostic_and_Clinical_Use">how we draw</a>. Likewise, engaging with drawing affects how we feel; it can help us understand and process our inner world. Art-making can <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0276237420923290">reduce anxiety</a>, <a href="https://eric.ed.gov/?id=EJ722383">elevate mood</a>, <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6124538/">improve quality of life</a> and <a href="https://escholarship.org/uc/item/8bq69315">promote general creativity</a>. Art therapy has even been <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/16288447/">linked to</a> reduced symptoms of distress and higher quality of life for cancer patients. And it can help you enter a “flow state”, where self-consciousness disappears, focus sharpens, work comes easily to you and mental blockages seem to evaporate. <h2>Cultivating a drawing habit</h2> Cultivating a drawing habit means letting go of biases against drawing and against copying others to learn technique. Resisting the urge to critically compare your work to others’ is also important. Most children don’t care about what’s considered “essential” to a functioning society. They draw instinctively and freely. Part of the reason drawing rates are thought to be <a href="http://mtoku.yourweb.csuchico.edu/vc/Articles/toku/Toku_what%20is%20manga_.html">higher in Japan</a>is their immersion in Manga (Japanese comics), a broadly popular and culturally important medium. Another is an emphasis on diligent practice. Children copy and practise the Manga style, <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/20716077">providing a critical stepping stone</a> from free scribbling to controlled representation. Copying is not seen as a no-no; it’s integral to building skill. As researcher and artist Neil Cohn <a href="http://www.visuallanguagelab.com/P/NC_drawingdevelopment.pdf">argues</a>, learning to draw is similar to (and as crucial as) learning language, a skill built through exposure and practice, "Yet, unlike language, we consider it normal for people not to learn to draw, and consider those who do to be exceptional […] Without sufficient practice and exposure to an external system, a basic system persists despite arguably impoverished developmental conditions." So choose an art style you love and copy it. Encourage children to while away hours drawing. Don’t worry about how it turns out. Prioritise the conscious experience of drawing over the result. With regular practice, you may find yourself occasionally melting into states of “<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flow_(psychology)">flow</a>”, becoming wholly absorbed. A small, regular pocket of time to temporarily escape the busy world and enter a flow state via drawing may help you in other parts of your life. <h2>How to get started</h2> Use simple tools that you’re comfortable with, whether it’s a ballpoint pen on post-it notes, pencil on paper, a dirty window, or a foggy mirror. Times you’d typically be aimlessly scrolling on your phone are prime candidates for a quick sketch. Doodle when you’re on the phone, watching a movie, bored in a waiting room. Together with mindful doodling, drawing from observation and memory form a holy trinity of sustainable proficiency. Drawing from life strengthens your understanding of space and form. Copying other styles gives you a shortcut to new “visual libraries”. Drawing from memory merges the free play of doodling with the mental libraries developed through observation, bringing imagined worlds to life. With time and persistence, you may find yourself producing drawings you’re proud of. At that point, you can ask yourself: what other self-limiting beliefs are holding me back? Image credits: Getty Images This article originally appeared on <a href="https://theconversation.com/have-you-fallen-for-the-myth-of-i-cant-draw-do-it-anyway-and-reap-the-rewards-172623" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Conversation</a>.

Art

Give this AI a few words of description and it produces a stunning image – but is it art?

A picture may be worth a thousand words, but thanks to an artificial intelligence program called <a href="https://fortune.com/2022/04/06/openai-dall-e-2-photorealistic-images-from-text-descriptions/">DALL-E 2</a>, you can have a professional-looking image with far fewer. DALL-E 2 is <a href="http://adityaramesh.com/posts/dalle2/dalle2.html">a new neural network</a> algorithm that creates a picture from a short phrase or sentence that you provide. <a href="https://openai.com/dall-e-2/">The program</a>, which was announced by the artificial intelligence research laboratory OpenAI in April 2022, hasn’t been released to the public. But a small and growing number of people – myself included – have been given access to experiment with it. <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=ZcWO2AEAAAAJ&hl=en">As a researcher studying the nexus of technology and art</a>, I was keen to see how well the program worked. After hours of experimentation, it’s clear that DALL-E – while not without shortcomings – is leaps and bounds ahead of existing image generation technology. It raises immediate questions about how these technologies will change how art is made and consumed. It also raises questions about what it means to be creative when DALL-E 2 seems to automate so much of the creative process itself. <h2>A staggering range of style and subjects</h2> OpenAI researchers built DALL-E 2 <a href="https://github.com/openai/dalle-2-preview/blob/main/system-card.md#model">from an enormous collection of images</a> with captions. They gathered some of the images online and licensed others. Using DALL-E 2 looks a lot like searching for an image on the web: you type in a short phrase into a text box, and it gives back six images. But instead of being culled from the web, the program creates six brand-new images, each of which reflect some version of the entered phrase. (Until recently, the program produced 10 images per prompt.) For example, when some friends and I gave DALL-E 2 the text prompt “cats in devo hats,” <a href="https://twitter.com/AaronHertzmann/status/1534947118053355522">it produced 10 images</a> that came in different styles. Nearly all of them could plausibly pass for professional photographs or drawings. While the algorithm did not quite grasp “Devo hat” – <a href="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/5761baff746fb9f420bb3ffc/1495765600043-HHVOESOJR2LLK7B820SS/?content-type=image%2Fjpeg">the strange helmets</a> worn by the New Wave band Devo – the headgear in the images it produced came close. <blockquote class="twitter-tweet"> "cats in devo hats" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/dalle?src=hash&ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#dalle</a> <a href="https://t.co/kkFaKF0zUJ">pic.twitter.com/kkFaKF0zUJ</a> — Aaron Hertzmann (@AaronHertzmann) <a href="https://twitter.com/AaronHertzmann/status/1534947118053355522?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">June 9, 2022</a></blockquote> Over the past few years, a small community of artists have been using neural network algorithms to produce art. Many of these artworks have distinctive qualities that almost look like real images, <a href="https://theconversation.com/new-ai-art-has-artists-collaborators-wondering-who-gets-the-credit-112661">but with odd distortions of space</a> – a sort of cyberpunk Cubism. The most recent text-to-image systems <a href="https://www.rightclicksave.com/article/clip-art-and-the-new-aesthetics-of-ai">often produce dreamy, fantastical imagery</a> that can be delightful but rarely looks real. DALL-E 2 offers a significant leap in the quality and realism of the images. It can also mimic specific styles with remarkable accuracy. If you want images that look like actual photographs, it’ll produce six life-like images. If you want prehistoric cave paintings of Shrek, it’ll generate six pictures of Shrek as if they’d been drawn by a prehistoric artist. It’s staggering that an algorithm can do this. Each set of images takes less than a minute to generate. Not all of the images will look pleasing to the eye, nor do they necessarily reflect what you had in mind. But, even with the need to sift through many outputs or try different text prompts, there’s no other existing way to pump out so many great results so quickly – not even by hiring an artist. And, sometimes, the unexpected results are the best. In principle, <a href="http://adityaramesh.com/posts/dalle2/dalle2.html">anyone with enough resources and expertise can make a system like this</a>. Google Research <a href="https://imagen.research.google/">recently announced an impressive, similar text-to-image system</a>, and one independent developer is publicly developing their own version that <a href="https://huggingface.co/spaces/dalle-mini/dalle-mini">anyone can try right now on the web</a>, although it’s not yet as good as DALL-E or Google’s system. It’s easy to imagine these tools transforming the way people make images and communicate, whether via memes, greeting cards, advertising – and, yes, art. <h2>Where’s the art in that?</h2> I had a moment early on while using DALL-E 2 to generate different kinds of paintings, in all different styles – like “<a href="https://www.odilon-redon.org/">Odilon Redon</a> painting of Seattle” – when it hit me that this was better than any painting algorithm I’ve ever developed. Then I realized that it is, in a way, a better painter than I am. In fact, no human can do what DALL-E 2 does: create such a high-quality, varied range of images in mere seconds. If someone told you that a person made all these images, of course you’d say they were creative. But <a href="https://cacm.acm.org/magazines/2020/5/244330-computers-do-not-make-art-people-do/fulltext">this does not make DALL-E 2 an artist</a>. Even though it sometimes feels like magic, under the hood it is still a computer algorithm, rigidly following instructions from the algorithm’s authors at OpenAI. If these images succeed as art, they are products of how the algorithm was designed, the images it was trained on, and – most importantly – how artists use it. You might be inclined to say there’s little artistic merit in an image produced by a few keystrokes. But in my view, this line of thinking echoes <a href="https://cacm.acm.org/magazines/2020/5/244330-computers-do-not-make-art-people-do/fulltext">the classic take</a> that photography cannot be art because a machine did all the work. Today the human authorship and craft involved in artistic photography are recognized, and critics understand that the best photography involves much more than just pushing a button. Even so, we often discuss works of art as if they directly came from the artist’s intent. The artist intended to show a thing, or express an emotion, and so they made this image. DALL-E 2 does seem to shortcut this process entirely: you have an idea and type it in, and you’re done. But when I paint the old-fashioned way, I’ve found that my paintings come from the exploratory process, not just from executing my initial goals. And this is true for many artists. Take Paul McCartney, who came up with the track “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUvZA5AYhB4&t=35s">Get Back</a>” during a jam session. He didn’t start with a plan for the song; he just started fiddling and experimenting <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Get_Back#Early_protest_lyrics">and the band developed it from there</a>. Picasso <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=dZyPAAAAQBAJ&lpg=PA2&ots=xYVek5tbjg&dq=%22I%20don%27t%20know%20in%20advance%20what%20I%20am%20going%20to%20put%20on%20canvas%20any%20more%20than%20I%20decide%20beforehand%20what%20colors%20I%20am%20going%20to%20use&pg=PA2#v=onepage&q&f=false">described his process similarly</a>: “I don’t know in advance what I am going to put on canvas any more than I decide beforehand what colors I am going to use … Each time I undertake to paint a picture I have a sensation of leaping into space.” In <a href="https://www.instagram.com/aaronhertzmann_aiart/">my own explorations with DALL-E 2</a>, one idea would lead to another which led to another, and eventually I’d find myself in a completely unexpected, magical new terrain, very far from where I’d started. <h2>Prompting as art</h2> I would argue that the art, in using a system like DALL-E 2, comes not just from the final text prompt, but in the entire creative process that led to that prompt. Different artists will follow different processes and end up with different results that reflect their own approaches, skills and obsessions. I began to see my experiments as a set of series, each a consistent dive into a single theme, rather than a set of independent wacky images. Ideas for these images and series came from all around, often linked by a set of <a href="https://link.springer.com/book/10.1007/978-3-319-15524-1">stepping stones</a>. At one point, while making images based on contemporary artists’ work, I wanted to generate an image of site-specific installation art in the style of the contemporary Japanese artist <a href="http://yayoi-kusama.jp/e/biography/index.html">Yayoi Kusama</a>. After trying a few unsatisfactory locations, I hit on the idea of placing it in <a href="https://mezquita-catedraldecordoba.es/en/">La Mezquita</a>, a former mosque and church in Córdoba, Spain. I sent <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CehcE4DvN1d/">the picture</a> to an architect colleague, Manuel Ladron de Guevara, who is from Córdoba, and we began riffing on other architectural ideas together. This became a series on imaginary new buildings in different architects’ styles. So I’ve started to consider what I do with DALL-E 2 to be both a form of exploration as well as a form of art, even if it’s often amateur art like the drawings I make on my iPad. Indeed some artists, like <a href="https://twitter.com/advadnoun">Ryan Murdoch</a>, have advocated for prompt-based image-making to be recognized as art. He points to the <a href="https://twitter.com/NeuralBricolage">experienced AI artist Helena Sarin</a> as an example. “When I look at most stuff from <a href="https://www.midjourney.com/">Midjourney</a>” – another popular text-to-image system – “a lot of it will be interesting or fun,” Murdoch told me in an interview. “But with [Sarin’s] work, there’s a through line. It’s easy to see that she has put a lot of thought into it, and has worked at the craft, because the output is more visually appealing and interesting, and follows her style in a continuous way.” Working with DALL-E 2, or any of the new text-to-image systems, means learning its quirks and developing strategies for avoiding common pitfalls. It’s also important to know about <a href="https://github.com/openai/dalle-2-preview/blob/main/system-card.md#probes-and-evaluations">its potential harms</a>, such as its reliance on stereotypes, and potential uses for disinformation. Using DALL-E 2, you’ll also discover surprising correlations, like the way everything becomes old-timey when you use an old painter, filmmaker or photographer’s style. When I have something very specific I want to make, DALL-E 2 often can’t do it. The results would require a lot of difficult manual editing afterward. It’s when my goals are vague that the process is most delightful, offering up surprises that lead to new ideas that themselves lead to more ideas and so on. <h2>Crafting new realities</h2> These text-to-image systems can help users imagine new possibilities as well. <a href="https://daniellebaskin.com/">Artist-activist Danielle Baskin</a> told me that she always works “to show alternative realities by ‘real’ example: either by setting scenarios up in the physical world or doing meticulous work in Photoshop.” DALL-E 2, however, “is an amazing shortcut because it’s so good at realism. And that’s key to helping others bring possible futures to life – whether its satire, dreams or beauty.” She has used it to imagine <a href="https://twitter.com/djbaskin/status/1519050225297461249">an alternative transportation system</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/djbaskin_images/status/1533970922146648064">plumbing that transports noodles instead of water</a>, both of which reflect <a href="https://www.forbes.com/sites/jonathonkeats/2021/02/11/is-twitter-really-offering-verified-badges-for-san-francisco-homes-an-artists-satire-nearly-starts-a-civil-war">her artist-provocateur sensibility</a>. Similarly, artist Mario Klingemann’s <a href="https://twitter.com/quasimondo/status/1533877178496163840">architectural renderings with the tents of homeless people</a> could be taken as a rejoinder to <a href="https://twitter.com/AaronHertzmann/status/1526710430751522817">my architectural renderings of fancy dream homes</a>. It’s too early to judge the significance of this art form. I keep thinking of a phrase from the excellent book “<a href="https://www.haymarketbooks.org/books/1662-art-in-the-after-culture">Art in the After-Culture</a>” – “The dominant AI aesthetic is novelty.” Surely this would be true, to some extent, for any new technology used for art. The first films by the <a href="https://iphf.org/inductees/auguste-louis-lumiere/">Lumière brothers</a> in 1890s were novelties, not cinematic masterpieces; it amazed people to see images moving at all. AI art software develops so quickly that there’s continual technical and artistic novelty. It seems as if, each year, there’s an opportunity to explore an exciting new technology – each more powerful than the last, and each seemingly poised to transform art and society. Image credits: Shutterstock This article originally appeared on <a href="https://theconversation.com/give-this-ai-a-few-words-of-description-and-it-produces-a-stunning-image-but-is-it-art-184363" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Conversation</a>. <div style="caret-color: #000000; color: #000000; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; text-decoration: none; --tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-color: rgba(51,168,204,0.5); --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 #0000; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 #0000; --tw-shadow: 0 0 #0000; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 #0000; background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;" data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"> <div style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-color: rgba(51,168,204,0.5); --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 #0000; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 #0000; --tw-shadow: 0 0 #0000; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 #0000; background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; caret-color: #000000; color: #000000; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville', Georgia, Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; text-decoration: none;"> <div style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-color: rgba(51,168,204,0.5); --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 #0000; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 #0000; --tw-shadow: 0 0 #0000; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 #0000; background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </div> </div> </div> <p style="caret-color: #000000; color: #000000; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; text-decoration: none; --tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-color: rgba(51,168,204,0.5); --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 #0000; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 #0000; --tw-shadow: 0 0 #0000; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 #0000; background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 18px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">

Art

10 proven ways to boost creative thinking

Keep your desk a little messy In a study recently published in the journal Psychological Science, students met in either a messy or an organised room, and had to come up with a new use for ping pong balls (a standard test of creativity). Judges rated the ideas, without knowing which rooms the groups were in. The result? Solutions from the messy room were gauged to be more interesting and innovative than those from the neat one. Work at a coffee shop There’s a reason Starbucks is always filled; it has the ideal decibel level for brainstorming, according to the New York Times. Researchers from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign asked study participants to think of ideas for new products with various levels of background noise, and found the best ideas were generated with ambient noise of around 70 decibels, or that of a coffee shop. Moderate noise levels help you think outside the box, study author Ravi Mehta, an assistant professor of business administration, told the paper. Extreme quiet (around 50 decibels, typical of many offices) is good for projects requiring sharp focus – say, crunching numbers – but not abstract thinking, while a too-loud 85 decibels (think: garbage disposal) is too distracting. Drink up Researchers at the University of Illinois at Chicago recruited Craigslist posters who described themselves as social drinkers. Some panellists were served vodka cranberry drinks until they had a blood alcohol level of 0.075; others did not drink. All participants then performed a cognitive exercise requiring creative problem-solving. The researchers found that the intoxicated subjects solved more of the problems – and, more quickly – than the sober people. However: Alcohol may tamp down working memory, which is crucial for analytical thinking, and may hinder “out of the box” illumination, Psychology Today reported. Hang with a mixed gang In 1999, Martin Ruef, then at Stanford and now at Duke, did a survey of Stanford Business School alumni who went on to start their own businesses. He found that the most creative entrepreneurs spent the most time networking with a diverse group outside of their typical business colleagues. “Weak ties – of acquaintanceship, of colleagues who are not friends – provide non-redundant information and contribute to innovation because they tend to serve as bridges between disconnected social groups,” he said in a press release. “Weak ties allow for more experimentation in combining ideas from disparate sources and impose fewer demands for social conformity than do strong ties.” Colour yourself blue Blue is the hue for creative thinking, a series of experiments from the University of British Columbia found. More than 600 participants did cognitive tasks that demanded either creative or detail-oriented thinking. The tests were performed on computers that had either a blue, red, or white background screen. The blue screens encouraged participants to produce twice as many solutions during brainstorming tasks as other screen colours. (Conversely, red screens improved performance on tasks like proofreading and memory recall by as much as 31 per cent, compared to blue.) “Through associations with the sky, the ocean, and water, most people associate blue with openness, peace and tranquility,” study author Juliet Zhu told ScienceDaily.com. This makes people feel safe about being creative and exploratory, she said. Dim the lights Turning the lights down “elicits a feeling of freedom, self-determination, and reduced inhibition,” which is key to imaginative thinking, according to German authors of a study recently published in the Journal of Environmental Psychology. The researchers assigned a group of 114 students to work on a series of problem-solving tasks that require creative thinking. Those in a dimly lit room (150 lux) solved significantly more problems than those in a brightly lit room (1,500 lux). (Typical office light is about 500 lux.) Work when you’re tired It sounds counterintuitive, but night owls may actually be more creative first thing in the morning, and early birds may do more innovative thinking late at night, according to a study from researchers at Michigan State University and Albion College. The researchers believe that you use more creative thinking when you’re less inhibited, which happens when brain fog compromises your attention span. So early-bird students, for example, may do well to save art and creative writing projects for later in the evening. Budget it in While many a-ha! moments happen spontaneously in the shower or while you’re doing something random, it also pays to slot in time to focus on creative projects outside of your day job or schoolwork – or else you won’t commit to really doing it. This strategy has been made famous by companies like Google and 3M, Business Insider reports. The technology giant allows its engineers to spend up to 20 per cent of their work time on creative projects, which, as it happens, is how Gmail was created. 3M gave its workers “15 per cent” time, which one scientist used to create Post It notes back in 1974. Step into new surroundings Studies have found that students who spend time studying abroad are more creative problem solvers than those who don’t, perhaps because a more expansive worldview allows for more open-minded thinking. Scientific American reports that even thinking of a faraway place can spur ingenuity. In one study, for example, participants who were told that the questions they had to answer were developed by researchers in California (3000 kilometres away) solved more problems than those who were told that the questions were developed by local researchers three kilometres away. The next time you need a creative jolt, try a new environment – or even just imagine or draw on memories of a faraway place. Change up your routine Psychology Today reported that Dutch study participants who prepared their breakfast sandwiches in reverse order had a more productive brainstorm than those who made them their usual way. “If you want to get into a creative mindset, do your normal routine in a completely different way,” cognitive psychologist Dr Scott Barry Kaufman said after analysing the research for PT. “Write with your other hand. Moonwalk backwards on your way to work. Eat something new for lunch. Smile at strangers. Be weird. With your brain re-shuffled, you’ll be in a better position to be creative.” Written by Lauren Gelman. This article first appeared in <a href="https://www.readersdigest.com.au/healthsmart/10-proven-ways-to-boost-creative-thinking" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Reader’s Digest</a>. For more of what you love from the world’s best-loved magazine, <a href="http://readersdigest.innovations.com.au/c/readersdigestemailsubscribe?utm_source=over60&utm_medium=articles&utm_campaign=RDSUB&keycode=WRA87V" target="_blank" rel="noopener">here’s our best subscription offer.</a> Image: Getty Images

Mind

“How do you write to your Queen?” Helen Mirren reveals contents of special letter

Helen Mirren has revealed the secret letter she wrote to Queen Elizabeth when the actress was playing Her Majesty in the 2006 biopic The Queen. The Hollywood legend reflected on crafting the letter in an interview with the <a href="https://www.radiotimes.com/tv/radio-times-new-issue-cover-helen-mirren/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Radio Times</a>, saying she felt compelled to write after realising the intensity of the Queen's role firsthand. "I realised we were investigating a profoundly painful part of her life, so I wrote to her," she said. "How do you write to your queen? Was it Madam, or Your Highness, or Your Majesty?" "I said: 'We are doing this film. We are investigating a very difficult time in your life. I hope it's not too awful for you'. I can't remember how I put it. I just said that in my research I found myself with a growing respect for her, and I just wanted to say that." The 76-year-old actress won an Oscar and a Bafta for her portrayal in the film, which is set during the time Princess Diana tragically died. While she never received a response to her letter from the Queen, Mirren said she did receive a letter from the Queen's secretary. Upon opening the response she confessed, "I was very relieved subsequently that I had written that letter." Earlier this year, the actress told <a href="https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-features/helen-mirren-interview-f9-golda-meir-1235097461/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Hollywood Reporter</a> that she believes the Queen has watched the biopic. "At the time, it had never been done before, playing the queen. It was quite nerve-racking because I didn't know – no one knew – how the public would receive it, let alone the establishment in Britain," Mirren reflected. "But I got the sense that it had been seen and that it had been appreciated. I've never heard directly, and I never will," she added. Image credits: Getty Images

Movies

COVID changed travel writing

In 2019, international travel and tourism was <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/news/2019/jul/01/global-tourism-hits-record-highs-but-who-goes-where-on-holiday" target="_blank" rel="noopener">a $1.7 trillion global industry</a>. A new cruise ship with space for <a href="https://www.cruisecritic.com.au/articles.cfm?ID=3443" target="_blank" rel="noopener">6600 passengers</a> was launched. And dog friendly holidays in the French Riviera were seen as the next big <a href="https://www.luxurytravelmag.com.au/article/these-are-2019s-top-travel-trends/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">tourism trend</a>. On social media, travel influencers and bloggers vied for commissions and audiences, while the more “old school” travel writers and journalists continued to report from all corners of the world. The grey area around ethics and sponsorship was murkier than ever – and there was of course, an environmental cost: from the carbon footprint of frequent flyers to the social and cultural impact on <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2019/04/29/the-airbnb-invasion-of-barcelona" target="_blank" rel="noopener">over-touristed destinations</a>. Still, the industry was booming. Then, along came COVID-19. For more than a decade, I had made my living as a travel writer, contributing to publications in Australia, New Zealand, Canada, the US and the UK. I’d visited 72 countries on the job. I’d paddled a kayak across the <a href="https://www.traveller.com.au/alone-in-the-isle-seat-auou" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tongan Vava’u archipelago</a>; written about Myanmar’s temples and <a href="https://meanjin.com.au/essays/borderlands/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tijuana and the Mexican border</a>; been hosted on numerous “famils” (familiarisation tours) around the world and met the woman who would become my wife in a Buenos Aires bar while on an assignment to write about the <a href="https://www.australiangeographic.com.au/topics/history-culture/2012/07/the-new-australians-of-south-america/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">“New Australia”</a> utopian colony in Paraguay. When news of a virus emerged from a wet market in Wuhan in early 2020, all that stopped. As I slipped into the first of many lockdowns, initially I mourned for the travel life I couldn’t live anymore. Once upon a time, my editor would ring on a Friday afternoon to ask if I could fly to Vietnam on Tuesday. But during my enforced time at home, I realised the travel writing genre I was part of needed some serious re-thinking. The warning signs of a hubristic industry were hard to ignore. In 2019, for instance, the relaxation of regulations for climbers of Mount Everest had resulted in a <a href="https://www.gq.com/story/mount-everest-chaos-at-the-top-of-the-world" target="_blank" rel="noopener">“conga line in the death zone above 8,000 metres”</a> of people waiting to summit the peak. The image went viral. <blockquote class="twitter-tweet"> Traffic Jam at the top of the world. A unique situation emerged near balcony when almost 236 climbers rushed to summit Mt Everest on 22 May,2019 following a short summit window. This has environment impacts as well <a href="https://twitter.com/ExplorersWeb?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@ExplorersWeb</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/ClimateReality?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@ClimateReality</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/UNFCCC?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@UNFCCC</a> @climateprogress <a href="https://t.co/mHR37ycfvw">pic.twitter.com/mHR37ycfvw</a> — The Northerner (@northerner_the) <a href="https://twitter.com/northerner_the/status/1131506158781517824?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">May 23, 2019</a></blockquote> The notion that the genre might have finally reached its nadir after thousands of years of exploration, exploitation and discovery is not a new concept. But the sheer volume of <a href="https://www.huffpost.com/entry/7-ways-travel-listicles-are-ruining-travel-writing_b_5a2d9455e4b04e0bc8f3b5f2" target="_blank" rel="noopener">listicles</a>, luxury reviews and Instagram journeys masquerading now as legitimate travel writing is alarming. Pandemic enforced lockdowns got me thinking about how the experience of immobility wasn’t unique. Wars, pandemics, shipwrecks and even prison walls had prevented others from travelling in the past, yet many still managed to travel internally through their own <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Creative-and-Non-fiction-Writing-during-Isolation-and-Confinement-Imaginative/Stubbs/p/book/9781032152516" target="_blank" rel="noopener">isolation</a>. More than two and a half years later, I now believe that despite the angst borne from lockdowns and closed borders around the world, this pause due to COVID-19 has ultimately been a good thing for travel writing – and perhaps the broader travel industry. It has allowed us time to stop and take stock. <h2>A history of re-thinking and re-imagining</h2> Travel writing is one of the most ancient and enduring literary forms. Evidence of the travels of Harkuf, an emissary to the pharaohs, is written on tombs in ancient Egypt. Indigenous Dreaming stories <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/abs/cambridge-history-of-travel-writing/introduction/4CF0BFA6F65A206D5CEBCC35F3AD2A5F" target="_blank" rel="noopener">“spoken or sung or depicted in visual art”</a> date back thousands of years. As Nandini Das and Tim Youngs write in <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/40165322-the-cambridge-history-of-travel-writing?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=UjsOKwdkaJ&rank=1" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Cambridge History of Travel Writing</a>, <blockquote> Travel narratives have existed for millennia: so long as people have journeyed, they have told stories about their travels. </blockquote> In a literary sense, travel writing can be traced to the emergence of commerce and movable print technology in Europe in the 15th and 16th centuries. It went on to flourish in the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Romanticism" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Romantic Era</a> of travel and exploration, from the late 18th century to mid 1850s. During this time, western travel writing was embroiled in the colonial project. The journals of Imperialist explorers such as William Dampier and James Cook were enormously popular, along with writers such as Richard Francis Burton and James Bruce who recounted their fantastical journeys to the public back home as they sought to conquer lands for “the mother country”. Travel writing continued to shift, changing forms and attracting different readers. The Grand Tour pilgrimage increased in popularity. Mark Twain’s <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Innocents_Abroad" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Innocents Abroad</a> (1869), about his voyage on the “Quaker City” cruise ship, was the century’s best selling travel book. “People have been asking the melodramatic question, ‘Is travel writing dead?’ for the best part of a century,” notes contemporary travel writing scholar Dr Tim Hannigan. During the first world war, British travel literature seemed a requiem for a distant era. The war, observes cultural and literary historian Paul Fussell, “effectively restricted private travel abroad. The main travelers were the hapless soldiery shipped to France and Belgium and Italy and Mesapotamia”. But the end of the war, in fact, led to a significant re-thinking of the travel writing genre. Borders reopened, new countries and alliances had formed. People emerged from the isolation of war curious to see, hear and experience what this “new world” was like. This golden era of travel writing in the 1920s and 1930s was chracterised by a new inquisitiveness. Modernist and experimental styles emerged and, as literary scholar Peter Hulme writes, <blockquote> travel writing could become the basis of a writing career – perhaps because those who had just fought a war felt the need for the kind of direct engagement with social and political issues that travel writing and journalism seemed to offer. </blockquote> After the second world war, travel writing became more questioning of authority, with a quality of restlessness. Notable works incuded Eric Newby’s <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/118141.A_Short_Walk_in_the_Hindu_Kush?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=GkIrolRIA7&rank=1" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A Short Walk in the Hindu Kush</a> (1958), Wilfred Thesiger’s <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/825419.Arabian_Sands?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=Js8VkeOG67&rank=1" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Arabian Sands</a> (1959) and John Steinbeck’s <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/33617956-travels-with-charlie-in-search-of-america?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=fwygWdt9sG&rank=1" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Travels with Charlie in Search of America</a> (1962), about his three-month journey across the US. In 1960s and 1970s, new books showed how travel writing could evolve again while still displaying the “wonder” central to its appeal: presenting narrated inner journeys, adventure and a richness and complexity that had not been seen before. Peter Matthiessen’s <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/764165.The_Snow_Leopard?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=MfFMUKo9xS&rank=1" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Snow Leopard</a>, Robyn Davidson’s <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/78895.Tracks?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=Ky3md4s1Az&rank=4" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tracks</a> and even the creative voice embodied in Bruce Chatwin’s controversial In Patagonia, (a postmodern blending of fact and fiction), showed how travel narratives, rather than offering insular and superior perspectives, could be subjective, creative and affecting. This new era of travel writing post-COVID, I’d argue, has the potential to adapt to a changing world in the same way the genre changed after the first world war. Environmental concerns, Indigenous presence, awareness of the “other” (and of being the “other”) and an acknowledgement of benefits and pitfalls of technology are all central concerns to travel writing today. <h2>New ways to think about travel writing</h2> The work of South Australian based literary academic Stephen Muecke is an interesting example of a different kind of travel writing. Muecke has had a long career of adopting co-authorship practices, embracing Indigenous and diverse voices within his narratives to highlight that there is always more than one perspective worth considering. In Muecke’s <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/13645145.2007.9634820" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Gulaga Story</a> he writes about an ascent of Gulaga, or Mount Dromedary in southern NSW. Local Yuin Aboriginal people take him up the mountain to learn aspects of its Dreaming story and the totem of the Yuin. Muecke’s writing includes interviews with anthropologist Debbie Rose and sections of Captain Cook’s journal, from when Cook travelled along the NSW coast in the 18th Century. The latter offers a contrast between Cook’s initial surface appraisal and the deeper meanings of Indigenous knowledge. Muecke writes: Travelling whitefellas tend to think in lines, like the roads they eventually build and drive along, like the chronological histories they tell. Yet there are alternatives: being multiply present, for instance, as if by landing up in someone else’s somewhere, you still remain somewhere else. Maybe other people have been where you come from too; you arrive in their place and they tell you they have seen your city or your country. In <a href="https://re-press.org/books/reading-the-country/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Reading the Country: Introduction to nomadology</a>, Moroccan artist Krim Benterrak, Muecke and Nyigina man Paddy Roe demonstrate how a co-authored, overlapping narrative from three distinct perspectives allows us to appreciate travelling along the northwest coast of Western Australia. Paddy Roe was from Roebuck plains, an area once inhabited by Indigenous people, though now it is silent except for the vast cattle studs. The three examine the different meanings of place in Roebuck Plains and how different people see and interpret it. Central to the book is the premise that their method is not the way of interpreting Roebuck plains. Their nomadology is an “archive of fragments”. Another more reflexive writer of place, English author James Attlee, wrote the book Isolarion while merely travelling along his street in Oxford. His is an example of <a href="https://theconversation.com/great-time-to-try-travel-writing-from-the-home-134664" target="_blank" rel="noopener">vertical travel</a>, where the travel writer focuses on the close-at-hand details, rather than far-off experiences. Such books acknowledge the fraught nature of the travel writer who arrives from a western country or culture to write about other people and their sophisticated cultures. Attlee’s book is also a creative response to travel writing’s long carbon footprint. Will it still be appropriate for future travel writers to fly around the world on junkets (“famils”) racking up carbon miles amid a climate crisis? I think writers and editors should “go local” much more, as Attlee has, not just from an environmental point of view, but also from an authenticity standpoint. Of course, that doesn’t mean writers can only write about their home cities and states, but it would be a logical place to start. <h2>The new travel writing – 5 of the best</h2> Encouragingly, there are already many recent examples of travel writing that can further engage readers in this shift. Here are 5 of the best. <ol> <li> The Granta travel edition: <a href="https://granta.com/products/granta-157-should-we-have-stayed-at-home-new-travel-writing/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Should we have stayed at home?</a> presents a diversity of modern voices and stories, ranging from Taipei alleyways, the history of postcards and an Indigenous perspective of South Australia. </li> <li> <a href="https://www.the-tls.co.uk/articles/zero-altitude-helen-coffey-book-review-emma-gregg/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Zero Altitude: How I learned to fly less and travel more</a> by Helen Coffey explores the world without stepping inside a plane. Coffey uses bikes, boats, trains and cars to seek unexpected adventures while deliberately addressing the impact of how we travel. </li> <li> <a href="https://www.bradtguides.com/product/minarets-in-the-mountains-1-pb/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Minarets in the Mountains: A Journey into Muslim Europe</a> by Tharik Hussain explores a “different” Europe to that of most travel writing of the past. Hussain travels through Eastern Europe with his wife and daughters encountering the region’s unique Islamic history and culture. </li> <li> Cal Flyn’s <a href="https://www.calflyn.com/nonfiction-books/islands-of-abandonment-nature-rebounding-post-human-landscape" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Islands of Abandonment</a> doesn’t look for places or experiences that might fit in a top listicle of summer holiday experiences. Instead, it explores the “ecology and psychology” of forgotten places such as uninhabited Scottish islands and abandoned streets in Detroit to observe the slow movement of nature when unchecked by human intervention. </li> <li> In <a href="https://www.bloomsbury.com/au/wanderland-9781472951953/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Wanderland</a> Jini Reddy, an award winning travel writer who was born in Britain, raised in Canada, and whose parents are of Indian descent, decides to “take her soul for a stroll” away from office job in London in search of wonder, meaning and magical travelling on a random journey of inspiration “ricocheting” through Britain. </li> </ol> In much the same way that we’ve adopted little things like keep cups at coffee shops, and an awareness of ethical food and fashion choices, it is much easier today to find travel writing challenging the genre and exploring diverse perspectives. We’ll just have to do this writing alongside the Instagram influencers. This article originally appeared on <a href="https://theconversation.com/covid-changed-travel-writing-maybe-thats-not-a-bad-thing-183814" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Conversation</a>. Image: Shutterstock

Travel Trouble

To read or not to read? Is that the question?

In June this year, a six-month-old interview went viral. Sarah Underwood is a 23-year-old British author whose debut YA novel, <a href="https://www.harpercollins.com.au/9780008518097/lies-we-sing-to-the-sea/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Lies We Sing to the Sea</a>, has been described as a “<a href="https://www.waterstones.com/book/lies-we-sing-to-the-sea/sarah-underwood/9780008558536" target="_blank" rel="noopener">sapphic reimagining of the Odyssey</a>”. In an interview with a student magazine at Imperial College London, Underwood said that she had never read the Odyssey. No, not even in translation. Mockery ensued. Underwood was declared “Twitter’s main character” for the day. In a tweet liked by 11,290 people, the literary writer Brandon Taylor shared screenshots of the interview, commenting: “Some people should not be allowed to write books.” <blockquote class="twitter-tweet"> Some people should not be allowed to write books <a href="https://t.co/WIBaDDA272">pic.twitter.com/WIBaDDA272</a> — Brandon (@blgtylr) <a href="https://twitter.com/blgtylr/status/1537175245530046465?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">June 15, 2022</a></blockquote> Taylor’s acerbic takes are always a delight, and to any lover of reading the response to Underwood’s statement is understandable. But there is another way to look at it. Declarations of not-reading are not just complacent admissions of ignorance. Not-reading is not a simple absence of reading, a blank space where a text should be. It can be a mode of engaging with a text. After all, the decision not to read a text is based on a belief that we already know what it contains. We know (or think we know) what we are choosing to read or not read. In the case of the Odyssey, there is a lot of material to base that decision on. The orally-composed ancient Greek epic poem, first fixed in written form around the late 8th century BCE, is referenced in thousands of poems, stories, songs, films, video games, and other art forms. These works have been created over millennia, across hundreds of countries, languages and cultures. The Odyssey has been translated, rewritten, reimagined and riffed on in a myriad ways; it has meant many different things to many different people.The Odyssey is not the only text that has, as the author Geoff Ryman puts it, “kept on growing […] gaining meaning with each repeat”. More recent examples include multiple retellings of Jane Austen’s novels and L. Frank Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (1900), the subject of Ryman’s luminous novel of not-reading, <a href="https://www.hachette.com.au/geoff-ryman/was" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Was</a>. The long, broad, multiplicitous reception histories of texts like these burst the boundaries of their “original” forms. As Ryman observes, they grow, fragment, and spread as “a thousand icons scattered through advertising, journalism, political cartoons, music, poetry”. Through ongoing engagements with these fragmentary, second-hand Odysseys, Sarah Underwood has constructed an image of the Odyssey. In his book <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Translation-Rewriting-and-the-Manipulation-of-Literary-Fame/Lefevere/p/book/9781138208742" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Translation, Rewriting, and the Manipulation of Literary Fame</a> (2016), Andre Lefevere says this is exactly what “the majority of readers […] mean” when they “say they have ‘read’ a book”. They mean “that they have a certain image, a certain construct of that book in their heads”. Pierre Bayard, the world’s funniest literary theorist (and one of the sharpest), takes this argument further in <a href="https://www.bloomsbury.com/au/how-to-talk-about-books-you-havent-read-9781596917149/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">How To Talk About Books You Haven’t Read</a> (2007). He says that after a person has read a book, they have only the memory of it, an image in their head. But a person who hasn’t read the book may have a very similar image of it in their head, gleaned from second-hand sources, in much the same way that Albrecht Dürer drew his <a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/356497" target="_blank" rel="noopener">“Rhinoceros”</a> without ever having seen a real rhinoceros. Reading (or not-reading) is a fuzzy phenomenon that, as Bayard observes, “does not obey the hard logic of true and false”. <h2>Filtered interpretations</h2> But isn’t there something to be said for going directly to a text, rather than looking at it through a filter of other people’s interpretations? This idea also turns out to be a mirage. Even if Sarah Underwood had read the Odyssey in the original Greek, she would not have been accessing it directly. The text she read would be compiled by a <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/work-and-the-reader-in-literary-studies/F9FD2AC33A78BCF5A670BE71C9A7045E" target="_blank" rel="noopener">modern-day editor</a>, who has made thousands of interpretative choices, adjudicating between conflicting manuscript versions. Underwood’s reading would be guided by the introduction and notes in the edition she chose, and by her access to multiple other modern-day interpretative aids, such as dictionaries and commentaries. When the distinction between reading and not-reading is so blurry, an open declaration of not-reading can be seen as a rhetorical device, a position statement. In this context, Sarah Underwood is in good company. There are many other famous not-readers of the Odyssey, including the filmmakers Joel and Ethan Coen, who claimed they had only read the classic comics version before making <a href="https://www.cbsnews.com/news/the-coen-brothers-wacky-odyssey/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">O Brother, Where Art Thou?</a>. In his epic poem <a href="https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780374523503/omeros" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Omeros</a>, the Nobel Prize winner <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/derek-walcott" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Derek Walcott</a> has his poet-narrator address the spirit of Homer and admit I never read it Not all the way through. Through this deliberately irreverent statement, Walcott positions himself at a subversive distance – not so much from Homer himself as from the appropriation of Homer’s work by a <a href="https://www.bloomsbury.com/us/classics-and-colonialism-9780715633113/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">conservative, colonial tradition</a> of reading Homer as the wellspring and property of “<a href="https://pharos.vassarspaces.net/2021/08/25/greek-myth-pharos-surveys/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Western civilisation</a>”. Walcott’s claim to have “not read” Homer is actually a claim to have engaged with his work in a deliberately improper manner – that is, on terms other than those of the dominant culture. Instead, Walcott tells us, he has encountered Homer through the living voice of the author, through his complex reception history, and through the landscape and people of the Caribbean. By not-reading, Walcott <a href="https://www.sfu.ca/~andrewf/CONCEPT2.html" target="_blank" rel="noopener">blasts Homer out of the continuum of history</a> – out of the meanings assigned to him by a Western colonialist tradition – and gives him new life in a rich new context. Just like reading, not-reading can be simple or complex, reactionary or progressive. It can be complicit with a dominant culture, or resistant to it. The question of whether Sarah Underwood has or hasn’t read Homer is a red herring. What matters is whether she recontextualises the old stories in a way that responds to our contemporary concerns. And ironically, to find that out, we will have to read her book. This article originally appeared on <a href="https://theconversation.com/to-read-or-not-to-read-is-that-the-question-185393" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Conversation</a>. Image: Shutterstock

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Is AI-generated art really creative? It depends on the presentation

<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2022/apr/04/mind-blowing-ai-da-becomes-first-robot-to-paint-like-an-artist">Ai-Da</a> sits behind a desk, paintbrush in hand. She looks up at the person posing for her, and then back down as she dabs another blob of paint onto the canvas. A lifelike portrait is taking shape. If you didn’t know a robot produced it, this portrait could pass as the work of a human artist. Ai-Da is touted as the “first robot to paint like an artist”, and an exhibition of her work called <a href="https://www.ai-darobot.com/exhibition">Leaping into the Metaverse</a> opened at the Venice Biennale. Ai-Da produces portraits of sitting subjects using a robotic hand attached to her lifelike feminine figure. She’s also able to talk, giving detailed answers to questions about her artistic process and attitudes towards technology. She even gave a TEDx talk about “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XaZJG7jiRak">The Intersection of Art and AI</a>” (artificial intelligence) in Oxford a few years ago. While the words she speaks are programmed, Ai-Da’s creators have also been experimenting with having her write and perform her own poetry. But how are we to interpret Ai-Da’s output? Should we consider her paintings and poetry original or creative? Are these works actually art? <h2>Art is subjective</h2> What discussions about AI and creativity often overlook is the fact that creativity is not an absolute quality that can be defined, measured and reproduced objectively. When we describe an object – for instance, a child’s drawing – as being creative, we project our own assumptions about culture onto it. Indeed, art never exists in isolation. It always needs someone to give it “art” status. And the criteria for whether you think something is art is informed by both your individual expectations and broader cultural conceptions. If we extend this line of thinking to AI, it follows that no AI application or robot can objectively be “creative”. It is always us – humans – who decide if what AI has created is art. In our <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/14614448221077278?journalCode=nmsa">recent research</a>, we propose the concept of the “Lovelace effect” to refer to when and how machines such as robots and AI are seen as original and creative. The Lovelace effect – named after the 19th century mathematician often called the first computer programmer, Ada Lovelace – shifts the focus from the technological capabilities of machines to the reactions and perceptions of those machines by humans. The programmer of an AI application or the designer of a robot does not just use technical means to make the public see their machine as creative. This also happens through presentation: how, where and why we interact with a technology; how we talk about that technology; and where we feel that technology fits in our personal and cultural contexts. <h2>In the eye of the beholder</h2> Our reception of Ai-Da is, in fact, informed by various cues that suggest her “human” and “artist” status. For example, Ai-Da’s robotic figure looks much like a human – she’s even called a “she”, with a feminine-sounding name that not-so-subtly suggests an Ada Lovelace influence. This femininity is further asserted by the blunt bob that frames her face (although she has sported some other funky hairstyles in the past), perfectly preened eyebrows and painted lips. Indeed, Ai-Da looks much like the quirky title character of the 2001 film Amélie. This is a woman we have seen before, either in film or our everyday lives. Ai-Da also wears conventionally “artsy” clothing, including overalls, mixed fabric patterns and eccentric cuts. In these outfits, she produces paintings that look like a human could have made them, and which are sometimes framed and displayed among human work. We also talk about her as we would a human artist. An article in <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2022/apr/04/mind-blowing-ai-da-becomes-first-robot-to-paint-like-an-artist">the Guardian</a>, for example, gives a shout-out to “the world premier of her solo exhibition at the 2022 Venice Biennale”. If we didn’t know that Ai-Da was a robot, we could easily be led to appreciate her work as we would that of any other artist. Some may see robot-produced paintings as coming from creative computers, while others may be more skeptical, given the fact that robots act on clear human instructions. In any case, attributions of creativity never depend on technical configurations alone – no computer is objectively creative. Rather, attributions of computational creativity are largely inspired by contexts of reception. In other words, beauty really is in the eye of the beholder. As the Lovelace effect shows, through particular social cues, audiences are prompted to think about output as art, systems as artists, and computers as creative. Just like the frames around Ai-Da’s paintings, the frames we use to talk about AI output indicate whether or not what we are looking at can be called art. But, as with any piece of art, your appreciation of AI output ultimately depends on your own interpretation. Image credits: Getty Images This article originally appeared on <a href="https://theconversation.com/is-ai-generated-art-really-creative-it-depends-on-the-presentation-181663" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Conversation</a>.

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Young musician dies weeks after writing final song

How to write a memoir

Why you should encourage your grandchildren to write stories

6 creative ways to make money

How an inspired moment led to a creative new path after retirement

Creative ways to use leftover eggshells

Creative ways to store more in your tiny bathroom

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Two thirds of Australian authors are women – new research finds they earn just $18,200 a year from their writing

How a sense of purpose can link creativity to happiness

The 5,000-year history of writer’s block

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Give this AI a few words of description and it produces a stunning image – but is it art?

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To read or not to read? Is that the question?

Is AI-generated art really creative? It depends on the presentation

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