Everyone Has A Theory. I Have Notes, Not Prompts.

There’s only so much you can say in a social media caption before it becomes a letter, and since letters are kinda my thing, here we are. There seems to be some chatter in the background lately, and somewhere between what I’ve said and what’s been assumed, a few things have gotten lost in translation. 

It’s interesting how a decision about my own creative process can take on a little life of its own. A few comments have made their way to me suggesting that my decision to keep generative AI out of my artwork comes from intimidation, a lack of appreciation for the technology, or even a little jealousy over what others are creating with it. It’s interesting to hear the reasoning behind your own choices explained to you, especially when it bears so little resemblance to your actual reasons.

Somewhere along the way, choosing to keep AI out of my artwork seems to have been mistaken for feeling a certain way about what someone else is making with it. Having a creative boundary doesn’t mean I’m afraid of the technology, or anyone using it. It simply means I’ve decided how I want to create.

So for the sake of clarity, let me take this opportunity to share a little more about the Art of Evergreen, what goes into it, what I’ve chosen to leave out, and why those choices matter to ME.

AI is a tool, and in full transparency, it’s a tool I use from time to time. I can appreciate its usefulness and still decide where it belongs in my business. I can admire a sticker, and even buy it, without wanting to use the same process to create my own. Enjoying something and choosing how I make it are two separate decisions. Have I used AI? Yes! Have I made stickers, background and other graphic items with it?  Also yes! Will I use it again, probably, it would be unrealistic to say no, but If you know me, and even if you don’t, you have likely figured out that I am a perfectionist, and part of the pleasure for me is fussing with the little details for myself.

My digital artwork, backgrounds, stickers, and other products sold in my storefront, Letters, and in chaos and collected chaos packs, are created without AI, and they will remain that way. It’s a choice I’ve made with intention, rooted in what I value about making things and what I want you to receive when you purchase something carrying my name.

This was not a decision that I made lightly, for me, it starts with respecting the people behind the work. Most generative AI models learn and are trained from enormous collections of images gathered off the internet, a process called “scraping.” Those collections can include artists’ work used without their permission, credit, or compensation. Being able to see someone’s art online isn’t the same as having their permission to use it to train a tool that generates more images in their style. 

Behind those images are people who spent years developing that style all their own.  From painters to traditional graphic designers, it takes years to train your eyes, and I just don’t believe we can train AI technology as well in the time it has been in existence.

There is a difference between using art AS IS because you are a fan, (such as characters or logos used in their original form) and creating new computer generated pieces in the style of the artist. That distinction matters to me.

There is a fundamental difference between a human creating authentic fan art celebrating a beloved character, and an algorithm scraping that character to generate a clone. In my own work, like the pieces you find from time to time in Collected Chaos packs, I love incorporating original characters in their true, unaltered forms. Using scanned book pages, purchased digital imagery, licensed products, fussy cuts, and other originals and carefully placing them into packs, and even layouts is an act of human admiration. It preserves the integrity of the original illustrator's work, keeping their exact lines and choices intact while giving them a new home be it physical or digital.

To the artists, your years of developing a style and building a body of work deserve consideration, and praise, even when technology makes it easy to overlook you. Those years mean something. Learning composition, perspective, drawing, color, and all the little decisions that make a piece work takes practice. There’s a great deal of trial and error tucked behind something that looks effortless. I value that knowledge, including the parts that I’m still learning and mastering. A quicker route to a finished image doesn’t replace what I get from developing the skills to make it myself.

I learned very early on in my career that making the magic, really is THE MAGIC. It’s the color I change three times, the detail I refuse to leave alone, and the composition that finally clicks after I’ve convinced myself it never would. It’s working through a problem, taking a wrong turn, and finding something better than what I had planned. And Yes, absolutely, sometimes it’s an unreasonable amount of thought and time devoted to one very small sticker, but personally, I’m not interested in outsourcing what made me want to create in the first place.

I also think about the person trying to earn a living from that work. The illustrator hoping for a first commission. The independent artist pricing a piece to account for the hours it took. Even the small shop owner, like me, whose livelihood depends on people seeing value in something they made. The pressure to compete with inexpensive, quickly generated images is real. I want my business choices to support a world where a creative skill is still worth developing and paying for.

Lastly, there’s the matter of having a voice of my own. I want to choose exactly where a line goes, how a pattern repeats, and which tiny detail makes the whole thing feel like Evergreen. When images begin to share a familiar look, I find myself wanting to put more of my own hand into the work to make it different. That control matters to me. I want the finished piece to reflect decisions I made along the way, right down to the ones you might never consciously notice.

So yes, I use digital tools. And yes, AI has its uses in my life, but keeping it out of my artwork is not because I am intimidated, or jealous, it’s simply a boundary I made for myself based on MY values, and I’m comfortable with talking about it. There’s plenty of room in this crafty community, and in the world for that matter, to understand what a tool can do and still enjoy doing the work yourself.

To those who use generative AI or generative fill in their products, my choices aren’t an invitation to change yours. I respect your drive to create in a way that feels right to you, and I wish you success in finding the people who love what you make. There’s plenty of room for each of us to find our tribe without needing to take the same path to get there.

For me, part of that connection is being open about how things are made, so you can decide what feels right for you, too. Transparency matters to me as much as the creative process, and you deserve to know what you’re buying. I’ve posted a clear AI policy at www.elissaevergreen.com covering my own artwork, work by other creators sold across my platforms, and how AI use is disclosed. It also explains where AI may play a supporting role in my business.  

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for spending a little of your time here with me and for valuing the time, effort, and heart I put into what I create. This little corner of Evergreen will continue to be a place for human creativity, learning as we go, and the pleasure of making something personal. In a world that keeps finding ways to make things faster, I’m still happy to spend a little too long getting that tiny detail just right.

With love, paper, and a few more revisions,
Elissa