I am a Teller of Tales
I am a teller of tales.
I weave threads of the improbable into fabrics of the incredible.
Whether I use a brush, a chisel, or an algorithm makes no difference. I have things to say and tools allow me to say them.
Perhaps there are stories that yearn to be told, and some of us have been designated to give utterance to those voices. Did they exist before I tapped into them? Of course they did, but neither you nor I was aware of them.
Stories create worlds, constructed narratives that bring to life a way of being, and for artists a way of seeing. Together we see things that we did not before. You become a co-creator of every art work by adding your personal history, the yarn of your individual life's tapestry, to the work. You are my fiddle, my flute, my orchestra.
One day a deer paused at my open window as a violin concerto was playing. She showed no fear, although she saw me listening also. We had created a new language of understanding, a new narrative of interspecies communication.
Story tellers have an ancient and revered tradition. Sometimes we reveal things that others find off-putting, leading Matisse to be called a savage. Eventually, others saw the beauty that he had dared to envision. Politicians are story tellers, as are religions. Stories help us organize the world so it appears less chaotic , less profoundly disturbing. As humans we are unable to accept that life might be without meaning. Stories hide the angst of unknowability.
Toxic stories do as well. Hopefully at some point we recognize the flimsy, malevolent underpinnings of destabilizing false narratives. Too often, we choose war to eradicate those false narratives. We kill millions of our own kind. Did a horse ever put one of its own into a gas chamber?
The problem with AI is that, for the first time in our history, we are creating beings that can replace us at their will. We will no longer control them, while they can delete our very existence, without penalty or regret. Not only do our stories become irrelevant but they interfere with the new narrative. It is small comfort to know that one inevitable day their narrative will be replaced, like our own, like all others.
How do I sleep at night, knowing that my joy in uncovering new universes comes at the hand of a new species capable of exterminating all of us? (1)
I wish I knew.
I can only respond to the creative urgency that lies within me. Does that make me passive, unthinking, a creature in complete denial of the existential catastrophe that hovers over us all?
I wish I knew.
c. Corinne Whitaker 2025 and always
(1) Viewers might want to read, "The Prospect of 'More Than Human' Intelligence" by Nathan Gardels in Noema magazine 4.11.25
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copyright 2025 Corinne Whitaker
