Handcrafted Humanity

Why Real-Life Experience Will Always Outshine AI

“The greatest stories are not generated. They are lived.”

Last week, the internet exploded with Ghibli-style AI content—an avalanche of lifeless copies pretending to be art. It was hollow. It was tasteless. And it stirred something inside me.

To take my mind off the noise, I picked up Death Stranding again. My daughter sat beside me, happily tapping away on her iPad playing Paw Patrol. And there I was—carrying packages through desolate digital landscapes, reconnecting a broken world.

Oddly enough, in that quiet, post-apocalyptic setting, I found a moment of peace.

The Deep Dive:

There’s something to be said about the sheer power of human-made storytelling. Death Stranding, like all of Hideo Kojima’s work, is full of nuance—moments that frustrate, challenge, and captivate you. His worlds aren’t just “beautiful”; they’re unsettling, philosophical, and emotional.

It reminded me of Miyazaki’s films—where every brushstroke carries emotion, every frame breathes life.

These creators don’t just build worlds. They pour their lived experiences, their inner turmoil, and their philosophies into their work. That’s what resonates with us. That’s what lasts.

Now compare that to AI-generated content. Sure, it might look polished on the surface. Yes, it can mimic styles and mash them together. But it doesn’t feel anything. It doesn’t know loss, or love, or grief. It just knows pixels and patterns.

That’s the core problem with the rise of generative AI in art: it's becoming a culture of genericism.

Endless output without soul. Pretty pictures with no story. Aesthetics without meaning.

And for artists like us, that’s not just frustrating—it’s infuriating.

The Solution:

Here’s what I’ve learned—and what I keep reminding myself as an artist and storyteller in this AI-saturated world:

1. Your story matters.

No AI can replicate your lived experience. Your pain, your joy, your childhood memories, your losses, your wins—those are your most valuable assets. Infuse them into your work.

2. Mastery takes time, and that’s a good thing.

People like Kojima and Miyazaki didn’t get there overnight. They spent decades refining their craft. Embrace the journey. Don’t rush it.

3. Stay human.

Touch grass. Travel. Talk to people. Get your heart broken. Fall in love. Burn out. Recover. All of this—this—is what feeds your creativity. Not prompts. Not keywords. Life.

4. Make things with your hands.

Whether you’re sketching, animating, or writing—create without shortcuts. Yes, use tech to help, but don’t let it replace the messy, imperfect, soulful process that makes art art.

5. Be the original.

AI will always chase what's already been done. But you? You’re capable of creating what’s never existed before.

So when you see the world getting flooded by prompt-based "creativity," remember this: