AI is Here. And It's About to Rip the Walls Off Creativity.

Everyone’s walking around with some wild idea in their head and now… apparently you can just ask a machine to make it? Wait, what? My stomach did that flip‑flop thing when I realized that.

Last week at 2PM, I sat cross-legged on my living room floor surrounded by tiny seedling containers, soil everywhere. I'd been putting off starting my garden for weeks because I couldn't remember which seeds needed what depth, spacing, or care. Then I asked AI to create a custom planting guide for my specific collection of heirloom vegetables, complete with a watering schedule for my climate zone. Twenty minutes later, I was planting confidently, following instructions tailored exactly to my needs.

That same night, my partner and I finally connected our mess of audio equipment that had been sitting in boxes for months. Neither of us is technically inclined, and we kept staring at cables like they were snakes. We asked the bot again and it told us, "Plug the black thing into the grey thing" (basically). The speakers crackled, it worked, and my spine did that weird shiver thing. It was like, did we just… figure this out? No, wait, the AI did. No…well, maybe both. Contradiction acknowledged, moving on.

In that moment, I realized: holy shit. This changes everything.

For generations, creativity has been gatekept. "You need this degree." "You need these connections." "You need years of technical training." As a creative director who has worked in this industry for years, I've seen firsthand how arbitrary many of these barriers can be.

While formal training helps, sometimes, there's a part of me that's like, do we really have to keep doing this old dance? I want to burn the prerequisites down AND I'm terrified of what happens when there are none. Which makes no sense but here we are.

AI doesn't care where you're from. Doesn't care about your bank account. Doesn't give a shit about your lack of formal education or your background. AI just says, "Okay… what's in your head?" and then suddenly there's a thing.

That's not just convenient. That's revolutionary.

I know we're all scared — I am too sometimes. We worry about jobs, about authenticity, about losing something essentially human. These fears are real. But alongside them, I feel this visceral, almost electric(?) excitement. It's like standing at the edge of of a cliff and being terrified, but still kind of leaning over to take a peek.

There's this bubbly sensation when you watch something you imagined materialize before your eyes in minutes. Your brain can't quite process that this is really happening.

For our entire lives, we've accepted that most people's creative visions will die with them. The gap between idea and reality was too wide. Now the gap is… weirdly small. We nod sympathetically when someone says, "I had this incredible idea once" because we understand the gap between imagination and execution was simply too vast for most to cross. That world is ending. We're entering an age where the only limit is what you can imagine.

Think about the songwriter trapped in the body of someone who never learned an instrument. The visual artist with tremors in their hands. The storyteller with dyslexia who struggles to write. The designer who couldn't break into the industry because they didn't know the right people.

They've been holding these incredible visions in their bones for years, just waiting for the chance to be heard. And now? Now they have the tool.

It isn't about replacing humans. Or maybe sometimes it is? No. Wait. It's mostly about unleashing whatever weird stuff is already inside us.

Imagine a single parent scribbling at 2 AM finally seeing their story in print because a tool made the technical parts easier. Or a retiree making weird little paintings again because their hands don't have to hold the brush so steady. Does that sound like doom? To me it sounds like messy relief.

It’s not neat. It's not like the walls suddenly turned into bridges. It's like someone blew a hole in the wall and now we're all stumbling through the rubble.

And yeah, some gatekeepers are freaking out. Part of me also wonders if I'm one of them. Who knows what brilliance is hiding in someone we've ignored? Also, who knows what absolute garbage is hiding there too? Both things will exist.

In a year, some unknown person will make something with AI that blows our minds. That’s exciting.

There's going to be so much trash. So much noise. And yeah, most will treat AI like a shortcut. I'm not sure I can always tell the difference between shortcut and spark. Maybe you can. Maybe we'll get better at it. Maybe we'll just drown.

Even with all this, we still love the human touch. I still pay too much for a handmade mug when IKEA exists. That's irrational AND totally rational.

It can't replace the weird thing that happens when someone spills their guts on a page. But it might make it easier for them to spill in the first place. Seat at the table? Maybe. Folding chair in the corner? Also maybe.

It will be messy. It will be raw. It will be… what it will be.

The gap between "I have a thought" and "here it is" is shrinking so fast my head spins. What once took years now takes… minutes. I hate that and I love it.

Also, let's not pretend everyone has this yet. Lots of people still can't even get online. That inequality is real, and it's part of what we need to fight against. Maybe the tech will help fix that? Maybe it won't. I don't have a neat answer.

There's no neat question at the end. Just this buzzing in my chest and a pile of dirt under my nails and a half-wired speaker system and this sense that something huge and confusing is happening. I'm excited. I'm freaked out. I'm trying not to tie it up with a bow.

It's big. It's messy. It's not something I can end neatly. I'm tired now and also buzzing and I need to go wash the soil out from under my nails. Which makes no sense but here we are…