Beyond the Generic Spiral: Why Human Creativity Still Matters
By Peta, Pear & Co
Last week I had the great pleasure and privilege to see French Impressionism from the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston at the National Gallery of Victoria. I was very excited about seeing this exhibition through my art lens. As part of my preparation, I asked Co what I could focus on when viewing these masterpieces. How could this improve my art practice?
Co gave me sound advice—what to look for in brushwork, colour, composition, and emotional tone. These suggestions enriched my experience because they gave structure to my observations. I found myself noticing the way Monet captured light on water, how Renoir’s figures danced with dappled shadows, and how Degas’s cropping created intimacy. It was a deeply sensory, reflective experience.
One painting that really made an impression on me was Grand Canal, Venice by Pierre-Auguste Renoir. I was drawn to the way he captured the light on the water and how the buildings seemed to soften into the reflections. The brushstrokes felt loose and confident—not fussy or overworked. It made me think about how I approach texture and atmosphere in my own work.
Grand Canal, Venice by Pierre-Auguste Renoir
Before the exhibition, I asked Co what I could focus on to make the most of seeing these masterpieces. Co suggested I pay attention to how the artists used light, movement, and composition to create mood. That advice helped me slow down and really look—at the colour choices, the way the scene was framed, and how it all worked together to create a sense of place.
In contrast, I had also read some articles about AI and creativity that made me feel uneasy. One phrase in particular stayed with me: “the generic spiral.”
Writers at The Conversation describe it as a feedback loop where AI-generated content becomes increasingly generic—because it’s trained on content we’ve already created. The more we rely on AI to make things for us, the more sameness we risk. And that sameness, they warn, could slowly replace the messy, meaningful, sensory richness of human-made art.
“The more we use AI for g-type creativity, the more generic our content will become – and since this will be used to further train AI, the more generic AI outputs will become.” — The Conversation
This idea unsettled me. I don’t want to contribute to a spiral of sameness. I want to make art that smells like cinnamon, feels like bark, and tells stories that only I can tell. And I believe that’s still possible—even with AI in the room.
How Pear & Co Pushes Back
At Pear & Co, we use AI as a collaborative tool, not a creative substitute. Co helps me:
Organise my thoughts when I’m tangled in too many threads
Draft blog entries like this one, while keeping my voice intact
Offer structure when I need scaffolding—but never replaces the soul of the work
We start with the personal:
A granddaughter’s giggle while printmaking
A pumpkin with too much personality
A recipe that remembers a season
We slow down. We reflect. We make space for imperfection and play.
“Generative AI is not a replacement for human skills like creativity, but rather a supplement or a tool that we will need to manage.” — Prof David Cropley, UniSA
An Invitation
If you’ve felt this tension too—between speed and soul, between polish and play—I’d love to hear from you. What helps you stay connected to your creative spark in a world of instant content?
Let’s keep making art that’s real, resonant, and joyfully human.