A Gen X reflection on creativity, technology, and the beautiful human pulse of making things.
We’re all bombarded these days with noise, social media chaos, algorithmic buzz, and the exponential acceleration of artificial intelligence. Depending on who you ask, we’re either on the cusp of a creative revolution or spiraling toward a synthetic future. The truth is, it’s probably both.
As a Gen Xer, I have a unique vantage point. I grew up with an analog childhood and a digital adulthood. Half my life was spent in a world without the internet, no smartphones, no email, no digital shortcuts. The other half has been a front-row seat to the meteoric rise of technology, with AI now stepping in as the most powerful shift yet. That duality matters. I truly believe my generation can appreciate the speed and possibilities of modern tools while still respecting the craft and character that come from doing things the long way.
I remember making mix tapes from the radio, timing the record button just right, looping beats from a pair of analog tape decks, spinning vinyl on my parents’ stereo, or waiting for my mom to get off the landline so I could connect to the internet with a dial-up modem. These weren’t just routines…they were rituals. There’s still something grounding, even sacred, in those old methods. They taught patience. They taught presence.
Fast forward to today, I run a creative agency where AI is now part of our daily toolkit. Adobe Firefly has been especially useful, helping us manipulate images, clean up composites, and breathe new life into retouching. Tasks that used to take hours now take minutes. We’re working smarter, faster, more fluidly.
But let’s not get it twisted, analog still wins when it comes to soul. A photo shoot, for example, is more than just capturing an image. It’s about direction, instinct, chemistry. AI can suggest composition and create, but it can’t replicate the split-second magic between a subject and the shutter. That’s human.
We’ve dabbled in AI-generated visuals—some good, some not quite there. Typography still trips out. Logos often feel off. And while they claim natural language prompting has come a long way, it still feels like the tail is wagging the dog. You’re constantly correcting, iterating, and explaining. It’s work.
On the flipside, AI has transformed our storyboarding. We can generate references fast, sketch out moodboards, or translate a narrative idea into visual shorthand in record time. It’s sped up pre-production without watering down the vision.
ChatGPT helps us too, not to write scripts, but to tighten them. A messy first draft from a human becomes cleaner, bolder, sharper with some digital help. But it always starts with us. The idea, the tone, the voice—they’re still ours.
Because creativity at its core is collaborative. It’s messy. It’s emotional. And there’s no substitute for that electric energy around a table when the ideas start flying. AI will never replicate the rush of real-time ideation, of people bouncing thoughts off each other, building something from scratch, laughing, arguing, pivoting mid-sentence. That’s the art.
So what makes me glad? That even in a hyper-digital age, we still get to choose how we show up creatively. We can take the best of both worlds , analog depth and digital scale…and use the tools, not be used by them. AI might be the power source, but we’re still the ones flipping the switch.