Part One: Shape Shifting: AI, Creativity, and Collective Power

If AI is here to stay, then what we make of it is still up to us.

In a recent VESL gathering, we dropped the agenda and followed the thread — weaving our perspectives together to explore how AI is reshaping the creative industry, and what it means for the future of our work, our roles, and our responsibilities. What emerged was less of a conclusion and more of a shared inquiry: a collaborative meditation on the tools we use, the teammates we trust, and the threats we may yet come across.

In a recent VESL gathering, we dropped the agenda and followed the thread — weaving our perspectives together to explore how AI is reshaping the creative industry, and what it means for the future of our work, our roles, and our responsibilities. What emerged was less of a conclusion and more of a shared inquiry: a collaborative meditation on the tools we use, the teammates we trust, and the threats we may yet come across.

What follows is Part One in a series that captures that conversation and invites others to join it.

Colton Briner opened the conversation with a story about his father — a cowboy poet and born performer — who wanted to memorize a new spoken word piece to perform. Previously, he had brought down the house with George Carlin’s “Modern Man,” committing the full set to memory and delivering it with perfect comedic timing. This time, rather than scouring the internet for another great monologue, Colton asked ChatGPT to write a sequel: “Post-Modern Man.” It did. And it was good. Not perfect, but compelling enough that a non-writer could become a writer, a non-poet could perform poetry. “It enables his innate capabilities to thrive,” Colton said. “He’s still the performer. I’d argue that he is still the art.”

That anecdote set the tone for a complex and nuanced discussion. Because if AI can enable — it can also displace. If it can democratize creativity — it can also devalue it. And if it can sound like us, speak like us, move like us — what parts of ourselves remain uniquely human?

A Tool, a Teammate, or a Threat?

Josh Porter offered a window into the evolving relationship between designers and their digital counterparts: “What’s wild is that I’ll spend 30 minutes trying to iterate toward something in Figma, and then I’ll give a prompt to Midjourney or DALL·E and it gets 80% of the way there. That’s cool—but also frustrating. Because it means I have to be the editor now, not the originator.”

This shift—away from creator, toward curator—was echoed across disciplines. Megan Prusynski reflected:

“What’s been strange for me is realizing that I don’t always want to be the originator anymore. Sometimes it’s more about shaping what’s already there. That’s a big shift—and I’m still figuring out how I feel about it.”

Is the act of shaping still creative if the raw material comes from a machine?

As Colt noted, “A hammer doesn’t make another hammer. But AI is beginning to do that. It’s planning, delegating, improving, and in some cases, directing. That’s not a tool — that’s a teammate. Or maybe a competitor.”

And while tools don’t have agendas, teammates can. Teammates learn. Teammates talk back. Teammates evolve.

So what are we really building? Something that multiplies us — or something that replaces us?

The Ethics of Efficiency

We’ve all felt the lift of AI: faster edits, smarter research, better productivity. But with that efficiency comes displacement. As Colt pointed out, the merger of three companies into one AI-empowered organization reduced the number of marketing roles from nine to two. “And those two are doing more than the original nine ever could.”

Which raises the question: what is the social cost of this acceleration?

Colt noted, “We used to say, if you want something done, ask a busy person. But now the busy people have AI—they’re no longer overworked. They’re just optimized.”

Zack Darling quipped, “Yeah, busy people aren’t as busy anymore. They’ve got AI doing half their job.”

Are we designing ourselves out of a job — or into something we’ve never seen before?

Identity, Authenticity, and the Value of Human Work

We moved into murkier waters when we started exploring duplication. What happens when you can create an AI version of yourself — one that speaks, writes, and reasons just like you? Would you let it answer emails? Run meetings? Close deals?

What about art? Performance? Connection?

For visual artists and makers, the idea of duplication feels deeply personal.

“There’s something that feels wrong about that,” said Laurel Gregory. “If someone asked AI to draw something in my style — even if it wasn’t exactly mine — I’d still feel ripped off. Whether or not it’s technically IP is questionable, because art imitates life imitates art, and we’ve all been doing that forever. But still, there has to be a line. It’s the intention behind it that matters.”

We’re not just talking about stolen labor anymore. We’re talking about stolen identity.

And yet, everyone agreed — the technology is already here. People are already falling for scams, bots are already scraping voices, and deepfakes are already eroding public trust.

So how do we navigate this new terrain without losing our creative integrity?

Finding the Sweet Spot: Persona, Performance, and Consent

As the conversation circled back to creative agency, we found ourselves interrogating the edges: could there be a middle path?

Laurel asked if we could create personality tools that don’t steal — but synthesize. Something like a style test at the start of a session, to set tone and temperature. Something that feels like us, without having to be us.

Could we consent to that? Could we build responsibly?

Gretchen Giles brought it back to the core: “I want the robots to do the dishes. I want to do the art.”

Same, Gretchen. Same.

This conversation is far from over. And as AI becomes more powerful, more persuasive, and more present, our work as creatives becomes even more important.

The future isn’t something we wait for. It’s something we build together.