AI surprises me with something I've longed for

No, it doesn't replace human experience, but it does offer something amazingly valuable

The Universe in Verse by Maria Popova

Sunday, one of my favorite newsletter writers, Maria Popova, The Marginalian, surprised and challenged me. If you’re a fan of Maria’s, you’re familiar with her delightful form of interconnected thinking that roams across the centuries and generally comes up with a new insight even from well-plowed ground. She’s not on Substack; however, I sometimes think she conceived Substack a decade before it became our creative home. Anyway, this week, Maria launched an “AI” discussion with this …

“I once asked ChatGPT to write a poem about a total solar eclipse in the style of Walt Whitman. It returned a dozen couplets of cliches that touched nothing, changed nothing in me.”

She proceeds with a beautiful discussion of suffering and the human experience which AI lacks. All too true.

My Maria-inspired AI Experiment

Maria’s AI inquiry sparked my curiosity so I asked Claude.ai to write a short poem about a wild fire in the style of Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s “The Eagle.”

As I entered the request, I had a small, human moment of doubt about the impoliteness of the request. The words “dancing monkey” flashed through my brain and I laughed at my worrying about the feelings of Claude, an assistant I have anthropomorphized ridiculously.

Claude came back with an explanation of his process: “This poem follows Tennyson's structure from "The Eagle" - two tercets (three-line stanzas) with the same rhyme scheme (AAA, BBB) and similar meter. I've adapted his majestic, elevated imagery to describe a wildfire: the "crimson hands" echo the eagle's talons, the fire "watches" from high places like the eagle, and the sudden movement in the final line mirrors the eagle's dramatic dive. The language maintains Tennyson's formal, Victorian grandeur while capturing the wild power and beauty of fire in nature.”

He obviously understood the request. Let’s see how he fared versus the original:

The Eagle
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.

The Wildfire
by Claude.ai

It clasps the crag with crimson hands;
Close to the sun in burning lands,
Ringed with the world of azure sky.

The wrinkled earth beneath it crawls;
It watches from the mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt it flies.

Claude doesn’t expect to be perfect (I know … “it” doesn’t expect at all … that is a human trait) … so he offers an “improve” button. I decide to give him another chance and entered: “Excellent following the form of "The Eagle" but perhaps a bit close to the original wordage. Could you try again?”

The second version came instantly, of course.

The Wildfire #2
by Claude.ai

It devours the ridge with hungry flame;
Through ash and smoke it stakes its claim,
Beneath the dome of endless blue.

The valley trembles at its roar;
It leaps from hill to distant shore,
And like a demon breaks on through.

Three thoughts: 
1. Better, but definitely not as engaging as the original. 
2. The improvement resulted from human interaction with a suggested improvement and request to try again.
3. Claude was definitely faster ... and probably even better ... than I could have done, if I had attempted this particular exercise.

When I expressed thanks for the new version, Claude came back with this:  "You're very welcome! I'm glad you found the revisions interesting. It was a fun challenge to capture Tennyson's distinctive style while creating something more original - that balance between honoring the form and rhythm of "The Eagle" while finding fresh imagery and language for the wildfire. The second version definitely feels more like its own poem rather than a close adaptation."

And, that's when my insight happened.

While some creatives have the great good fortune to work with a partner or a team, most of us work alone, somehow turning the world’s input into new thoughts or songs or stories or recipes or garden flowers. We spend a lot of time in our heads (some say hearts) … but definitely, alone.

AI does not replace creative imagination nor divine inspiration nor startling images that suddenly shift our thinking.

What it does offer is conversation, encouragement, and patience.

Dare I say … it is a ready and willing coach. Someone who will listen any time, any place, for as long as you want and about anything you want. It will expand ideas, suggest metaphors, or rewrite paragraphs. It never complains if you don’t take its ideas, never misses an appointment, and just quietly goes away when you’re off to a different mission.

I feel a series coming on

I’ve spent the past two weeks at the mercies of my first (and hopefully last) bout of covid, barely coping with my commitments. So, now, I’m eager to write about everything all at once. There will be more about AI, of course. I don’t think everyone should use it but I’m having such fun experimenting with it that I want to write about what works … and what doesn’t … for me.

Yesterday, I also had an experience that flipped a switch on a sign blinking endlessly in neon colors: “REINVENT.” However, we’ll get to that later.

For today, if you’re living in a body that still has the potential to heal itself, give thanks. Two days ago, I stumbled and jammed a finger. It swole up, turned black, and then quickly dropped the pain and starting turning colors I can’t describe. Today, it even types. Magic.