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Author: Edward Ficklin
Ghost in the Machine
Musings on the ethical concerns surrounding large language models, colloquially referred to as AI, and where they do or do not fit in this artist’s creative process.
Life, the universe and everything
Pondering the indeterminacy of life and art I muse on whether I’m conduit or origin.
Got you covered
We want the gut punch of immediate visuals tickling the faster parts of our central processing unit to know if we should spare our precious and limited attention on something. A lot hinges on the humble cover.
The Revolution Will Not Be Funded
Alright, darlings, let’s get busy with some feisty political talk—and, true to form, a big fat complicated book to read! The book is not immediately about art, it comes from the world of violence prevention work. But, it’s about art, too, even if they authors don’t mention it specifically. Hopefully you’ll stick with me on…
Coded works, coded lives
Wherein a biography of John Singer Sargent stirs thoughts of the balancing acts queers faced then and what we still face today.
Saturate this, mofo! Color as Rebellion
Color has been the object of extreme prejudice in Western culture. For the most part, this prejudice has remained unchecked and passed unnoticed. And yet it is a prejudice that is so all-embracing and generalized that, at one time or another, it has enrolled just about every other prejudice in its service.
Fascinating
In the on-going excavations of Pompeii, finds like cool frescoes in a dining room garner coverage in major outlets. But rarely does anyone discuss the amazing number of erotic works uncovered. Uncovered and then—prudery triumphant—hidden away again.
Shameless and perverse flaunting
Reflections on the allure of flowers upon a visit to the sensual delight that is the New York Botanical Garden’s Orchid Show. From their visual allure to their cultural symbolism, the fascination with flowers runs deep.
Worth a thousand words
While a fully-sighted person might not ever notice–or need–alt text, they make a huge difference to a lot of people who would totally miss out on the image otherwise. They may experience it differently, but why deny them any experience at all?
An angel has no memory
I find myself suddenly drawn to the angel as a presentation of male beauty that is sensual and celebratory, rather than violent or coercive. Yes, there’s a bow and arrow. But it’s the revelation of hidden desires he’s aiming at his unseen target, not a threat of subjugation.