I’ve always loved Seth Godin’s definition: “Art is a human act, a generous contribution, something that might not work, and it is intended to change the recipient for the better, often causing a connection to happen.”
To me, this almost perfectly summarizes what constitutes art, the five key components being humanity, generosity, risk, intention for change, and connection.
As useful as this definition might be, I’ve always found it useful to consult those around me to aid in defining things for myself.
While pouring through my personal archives recently, I came across an audio recording of a conversation I had with a circle of friends years ago now. A poet friend of mine chose to define art as the “deliberate and practiced manipulation of some aspect of reality in order to evoke a response.”
The conversation then turns to what response needs to be evoked. In other words, does art necessarily need an audience? My poet friend doesn’t necessarily think so, stating that evoking a response in the creator is enough to qualify something as art. If you’re painting just for you, what you create is still art.


I’ve always defined art as the process of rooting around inside yourself, pulling parts out of you, and placing them in front of someone else for the sake of saying, “This is what’s inside of me and I think it’s inside of you too.”
This initially seems to conflict my poet friend’s definition, although I’d argue creating for the sake of self-discovery falls under the definition. If you pull what’s inside you out and place it in front of you, you may find yourself surprised.
With ongoing debate about the nature of art in the face of tectonic technological changes, I find pondering these definitions helpful. For me, the creative process is a spiritual act. With so many people (most of whom aren’t artists) espousing the wonders of AI, remembering why we create in the first place and what we do it for may be useful.
Yes, AI may be used as a tool for creation. But to suggest AI may supplant the artist themself is insulting to me on a level that transcends the physical.
Without practice, intention, and the potential to elicit response and connection, generating images, audio, video, and language is “just lights and clockwork.”