How AI Art Has Changed My Creative Process—And the Bigger Questions We Can’t Ignore

When I first dipped my toes into the world of AI-generated artwork, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. A girl in a red dress, walking up a staircase of cakes... that was fun... that was only about 18 months ago...

Like many, I had my reservations. Could AI really create something that felt as personal or as inspired as human-made art? What about the quality, the originality, the storytelling that an artist brings to the table? But as I began using tools like MidJourney, those reservations were quickly overshadowed by excitement. AI art wasn’t just a novelty—it became a tool that genuinely transformed my creative process.

For me, as someone who loves worldbuilding for RPGs or simply for fun, MidJourney allowed me to bring my visions to life in a way that felt incredibly liberating. Instead of the reality which would mean waiting weeks and negotiating over budgets for each commissioned piece, I could instead generate character portraits, cityscapes, and dynamic environments almost instantly.

The experience felt fluid, iterative, and, frankly, a lot of fun. In many ways, it felt like collaborating with a very fast and responsive creative partner—one that doesn’t get tired or bogged down in revisions.

The reality is that there is no way I would have been able to create a visually rich product without AI and the subscription model that is available. The question then becomes an emotive challenge: well perhaps you shouldn't have created it then! But that does come from a zero-sum game. Nobody lost the money on the artwork I couldn't afford, and the result would have been no new work for others to enjoy.

Still, the questions around AI and its impact on the creative industry remain complex and nuanced. It’s not just about cost-efficiency and speed; there are larger issues at play that we can’t ignore.

The Question of Training Data: How Was This Built?

One of the biggest ethical questions surrounding AI art tools like MidJourney is how the underlying training data is sourced. AI models are built by consuming vast amounts of data—images, texts, and media from across the internet. Much of this material was scraped from public sources, and many artists didn’t explicitly consent to their work being used to train these algorithms. This raises legitimate questions about the rights of the original creators.

Artists, whose work forms the bedrock of the training data, often feel they’ve been sidelined. Their years of honing a craft, developing a unique style, and producing distinctive pieces may have fed into the models that are now generating artwork on-demand, but without their knowledge or compensation. It’s a murky area, and one that AI companies will have to confront more directly as this technology continues to grow. Transparency around data sourcing is crucial, and ideally, artists whose work contributed to these models should be acknowledged and compensated.

For now, it’s a question many of us who use AI tools have to wrestle with. While I love what AI can create and how it fits into my process, I can’t ignore the uncomfortable fact that much of it was built on the back of work that didn’t receive explicit permission from its creators. It’s a balancing act—enjoying the benefits while remaining aware of the larger ethical implications.

The Threat to Artists: Where Does This Leave Traditional Creators?

Another unavoidable issue is the impact of AI on the traditional art market. With AI offering a low-cost, high-speed, and on-demand option for artwork, where does that leave human artists? This is something I’ve thought about a lot as I’ve transitioned from commissioning most of my artwork to generating much of it myself through AI.

In the past, I’ve spent thousands of dollars commissioning artwork—about $5,000 over the past five years—and those pieces hold immense personal value to me. However, AI has enabled me to produce entire books’ worth of artwork for a fraction of the cost. If I’m being honest, it’s hard to justify going back to paying for commissions on the same scale when I can get the results I want through MidJourney, and much faster.

That’s the harsh reality. For creators like me, AI offers solutions that simply work better for certain projects. But this does present a serious threat to many artists, especially those who rely on freelance commissions for their livelihood. It’s no secret that artists, especially those at the middle and lower rungs of the industry, are feeling squeezed out of a market that increasingly values speed, cost efficiency, and immediate results over the slow, often more expensive process of hand-crafted work.

I empathize with these concerns deeply. The artistic community plays such a vital role in the broader creative ecosystem, and there’s no question that AI is disrupting that. But I also believe that AI won’t eliminate the need for human artists—rather, it may shift how they’re valued. Human-created art, in my view, will become more like a bespoke or artisanal product, something you seek out for its emotional depth, unique perspective, and craftsmanship. It will be seen as a luxury or a premium experience, much like custom furniture or hand-tailored clothing in a world filled with mass production.

The Debate Over Quality: Is AI Really “Lesser” Art?

A common argument against AI-generated artwork is that it’s inherently of lower quality than human-made art. Critics often suggest that AI images lack the soul, depth, and personal touch that come from a true artist’s hand. I’ve heard this argument many times, and while I understand where it’s coming from, I’ve found that it doesn’t always reflect my experience.

AI - World weary orc

Take this example of a character portrait I generated in MidJourney—a world-weary, aged orc dockworker with muscles sagging from years of labor under the sun. The AI captured details that I found stunning: the sunburnt skin, the aged expression, the tension in his posture that spoke of a long, hard life. For me, the result was every bit as powerful as what I might have expected from a commissioned artist—and I didn’t have to wait weeks or negotiate over revisions.

Does this mean I think AI art is superior? Not necessarily. I think it’s more about fit. In some cases, AI can produce results that are exactly what I’m looking for. In other cases, particularly when I want something with a specific emotional resonance or when I want the input of a human creator who can elevate the piece in ways I might not have thought of, human art is still king.

The quality debate, in my opinion, is more subjective than objective. What I’ve found is that AI art can be just as visually stunning and effective for certain projects as human art. But for projects that require deep emotional storytelling, intricate meaning, or a unique vision, the personal touch of a human artist is irreplaceable. Both have their place, depending on what you’re trying to achieve.

The Future: A Space for Both

At the end of the day, we’re living through a major shift in how art is created, consumed, and valued. For creators like me, AI has opened up incredible new possibilities—allowing us to bring our worlds to life in ways we never could have before. But I also recognize that this shift is causing anxiety for many in the art community, and that’s not something I want to dismiss or gloss over.

The way forward, I believe, is in finding space for both. AI isn’t going away, and for many of us, it’s already become an essential part of our creative toolkit. But human artists are more important than ever. Their work will stand out for its emotional depth, its craftsmanship, and its ability to connect on a personal level in ways that AI can’t.

For me, AI art and human-created art don’t have to be at odds. They can coexist. AI can handle the quick-turnaround work that requires speed and efficiency, while human artists will continue to offer something truly unique and irreplaceable. As we navigate this new world of creative possibilities, it’s important to remain open to both—and to support the artists who bring beauty, meaning, and emotional depth to everything they touch.