thinking about the squip as an artificial intelligence and creativity.
painters and digital artists who take squips to be better at technical creation, but they never get it quite right. anatomy is just slightly off, eyes a little too big, blurred edges and awkward perspective.
actors who take squips for stage fright knowing all their lines and hitting all their spots but there's something mechanical about it. the way they move is a little too purposeful, they hit their marks a little too hard.
singers who take squips for pitch control, but all of their notes sound slightly off, even if they're using a completely normal voice. they always hit the right note, always project, but there's no soul, no emotion behind it.
photographers who take squips to always have the perfect photo, but their images always come out looking slightly photoshopped, too staged. candids are a thing of the past. everyone's too perfect, caught at the exact right moment, too stock photo.
writers who take squips to make wonderful stories, but their words are a little too close to someone else's, their narrative voice falling to pieces. there's no typos, no rough edges, no heart.
dancers who take squips to always be on beat, but never allow themselves to mark, who always have to full out perform, every time. who do a little too much. who can never make mistakes, sure, but can also never let themselves pull back when they need to.
fabric artists who take squips to create, but find themselves losing the ability to crochet, because the machine never learned how to do it, their stitches falling apart in their laps. they're left with yarn and crochet hooks and a feeling of disappointment.
comedians who take squips to be more successful, funnier, who tell jokes that are funny, that have the right amount of pause for laughter, who statistically should sell, but they lack the personal edge to make it properly.
artists who take squips for other things: for fame, for confidence, for love, for acceptance- finding that their creativity is fading away, entrusted to a machine that can't replicate their humanity and its flaws.
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2087
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