“The Broken Mirror of Time: The Artist Who Creates, Endures, and Splits”
The image you share conveys a strong tension between past and present, as if the floor on which the scene rests were a boundary between two realities. The broken, stained glass or mirror at the center seems almost like a portal to an “other time,” perhaps your past, where the details dissolve into uncertain shadows and colors. The reflective surface, though imperfect, returns an incomplete image of who you were, like a fleeting or fragmented memory.
The surrounding setting, with lights, cables, and modern elements, suggests your present in Italy: defined, clear, but with traces of instability. The oblique line of the glass can be seen as a cut in the continuity of time, where past and present do not perfectly align but observe each other. In this almost dreamlike situation, you are both subject and witness, in a sort of splitting where your awareness mirrors itself: you live, act, and at the same time watch yourself live.
It is as if the scene holds a silent dialogue between versions of yourself: the one you were and the one you are becoming. This process, though unsettling, holds a profound and melancholic beauty, where glass—symbol of transparency and fragility—becomes the space of your inner reflection and transformation.
The blurred, irregular light enhances the sense of a present in continuous construction, while the darker details seem to root your past experience in a stable yet veiled background. The scene, therefore, is not just visual but emotional, and speaks of your inner journey between versions of yourself.
The Unfounded Fear of Artificial Intelligence in Art and Other Human Activities
The fear of artificial intelligence (AI) in art and many other areas of human activity is largely unfounded. Throughout history, every technological advancement has sparked similar suspicions, from the printing press to the photographic and digital cameras. However, experience shows us that these tools have not replaced human creativity but have instead enhanced it.
AI is not new to our lives. For decades, we’ve coexisted with it in systems like autopilot in aviation, which ensures flight safety by reducing the risks associated with human error. Similarly, self-management systems, such as those regulating heating or air conditioning, make our daily lives easier without raising any objections.
In the creative field, every time we use software like Photoshop, we unleash complex chains of invisible code that adjust colors, lighting, or textures with a precision impossible to achieve manually. So, why fear a copywriter using AI to generate images that illustrate an idea for a client?
AI doesn’t replace creativity; it complements it. For example, an artist can feed a program with parameters based on their own work and request variations. This process doesn’t diminish the artist’s merit; it opens new doors instead.
Fear of the unknown has always been an obstacle to progress. Let critics remain stuck in their prejudices, and let us move forward, embracing the tools technology offers to expand the horizons of creativity and knowledge.
The Banality of Pixelation in Modern Photography
Years ago, I had the privilege of teaching Photoshop to the renowned Venezuelan artist Oscar Molinari. While guiding him through digital techniques to eliminate pixelation, he stopped me and said, “Pixelation is just what I need!” His words stayed with me, as they encapsulated a profound truth about art and its relationship with technical imperfections.
In our pursuit of perfection, we often conflate technical flaws with creative potential. What was once deemed an undesirable result—like pixelation—can today be reimagined as an artistic resource. This perspective echoes Picasso’s journey: his early drawings, often critiqued as crude or naïve, later came to symbolize the deliberate, boundary-breaking spirit of modern art.
In photography, similar misconceptions persist. Many strive to eliminate cables from urban landscapes or remove unwanted figures from scenes, treating these elements as “errors” rather than acknowledging their role in conveying authenticity. These so-called imperfections are often the context itself—the raw truth of a moment that lends a photograph its narrative power.
Pixelation, for instance, can evoke nostalgia, draw attention to the digital origins of an image, or serve as a commentary on how we consume and alter visuals in the modern era. Rather than seeing it as a flaw to be corrected, it can become a deliberate aesthetic choice, much like abstract brushstrokes in painting.
Ultimately, creativity thrives when we challenge conventions and embrace what others discard. As Molinari taught me that day, sometimes the most “undesirable” results hold the seeds of innovation, reminding us that art is as much about embracing imperfection as it is about pursuing excellence.