Painting from the Gut: Reclaiming Intuition in an AI World
Six months postpartum, I finally got my daughter on some semblance of a predictable schedule. That left me with a few precious nap-time hours to myself. Sort of. There was still the cleaning, prepping, showering—all the invisible work that has to fit into those small windows of quiet.
But amid that daily shuffle, I felt a deep yearning to reclaim a part of myself, to reconnect with an identity that existed outside of motherhood.
I knew immediately that I wanted to paint.
Painting was something I’d done since I was a girl, and continued through adulthood—mostly through night classes after long days at work. But this time, I didn’t want to paint someone else’s still life or follow another instructor’s method. I didn’t want to be told what or how to create.
I wanted to develop my own process, my own language on the canvas.
The only problem: I didn’t know where to start.
Turning to AI for Structure
After days (or maybe weeks) of creative paralysis, I turned to the one thing I’ve worked with for over a decade: technology.
If tech can accelerate everything else, why not art?
Could AI help me develop a unique visual language?
Could it make me more creative—or even become a collaborator?
I began a partnership with AI agents—Meta AI and ChatGPT—to explore this question. I gave us a shared prompt:
“Nature and nightlife.”
This theme resonated deeply with me. Both represent escapes I’ve turned to throughout my life—walking in nature, dancing in dim rooms, losing myself. They felt especially poignant while I was stuck inside caring for a newborn during a long London winter. These two modes of escape—both wild in different ways—seemed like the perfect lens through which to explore both AI and human creativity.
Our process looked something like this:
I prompted the AI with a theme (e.g., “nature and nightlife”).
The AI generated a visual response.
I tweaked it using follow-up prompts—adjusting shapes, color, composition.
I used that version as inspiration to create my own painting.
I shared the work back with the AI for feedback.
Repeat.
The AI’s output? Predictable. Too perfect. Always a grid. Always too clean.
No matter how I prompted it, I couldn’t get the AI to produce something that reflected the emotional messiness I was feeling.
Why are the circles always so perfect? Why are the edges so sharp?
I wanted it to feel—not just remix data.
Breaking Free
I found myself becoming frustrated, then defiant. I didn’t want to collaborate anymore. I wanted to reject the structure the AI kept insisting on—its logic, its patterns, its refusal to surprise me in the way I needed.
So I told the agents: I’m done.
And that decision—that break—became a turning point in my practice.
A New Approach: Painting from the Gut
What emerged was a wholly human process, one that celebrates intuition, emotion, and imperfection.
Here’s what my practice looks like now:
I choose a color palette that reflects a mood, thought, or feeling.
I begin with spontaneous marks, responding to that internal energy.
I build tension and balance through instinct—not through rules.
I don’t overthink. I follow the feeling.
The title comes at the end, usually from the swirl of thoughts that arise while I work.
Even after sharing many examples and asking the AI to mimic my style, it still can’t. And that’s a relief.
Because in a world where everything is being automated, predicted, and optimized—this process is mine.
It’s flawed. It’s emotional. It’s practically infinite.
Where I Am Now
As a technology professional and emerging abstract painter, I remain open to the idea that one day, I might return to my AI collaborators.
But for now, I’m painting from the gut.