Before this week, I assumed generative AI would either feel like a shortcut or a threat to originality. What surprised me instead was how useful it can be without actually replacing the creative process. When I asked it to write a poem in the style of Edgar Allan Poe, the result was convincing on the surface, but it did not feel fully alive. That gap made me realize AI is better suited as a tool for expanding perspective than as a substitute for creativity.

To me, creativity is the ability to transform personal experience, emotion, and interpretation into something meaningful and original. It is not just about making something new. It is about making something that reflects a point of view. This builds on Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s idea that creativity involves meaningful contribution, but I think perspective is just as important as contribution. Without a perspective, creative work feels interchangeable.

Here is a short excerpt from an AI generated poem I received:

“A tapping rose — a hollow sound, like knuckles made of bone,
As though some soul beneath the ground sought solace in my home.
I dared not breathe; my heart became a prisoner in my chest,
For in that knock I heard my name, in sorrowful unrest.”

What made this interesting is how well it imitates Poe’s style. The dark imagery, rhythm, and tone are all there. But it feels more like a blend of familiar patterns than a unique expression. This connects to the article The artifact isn’t the art: Rethinking creativity in the age of AI, which argues that AI can generate convincing outputs without engaging in the deeper human processes like struggle, ambiguity, and lived experience that shape real creativity. In that sense, the poem is stylistically creative, but not deeply original.

Because of this, I would use AI to augment my creativity by helping me explore different perspectives rather than replacing my own voice. For example, if I were writing about a theme like grief, I could ask AI to generate interpretations of that theme from different angles, such as historical, psychological, or even from different fictional voices. This would expose me to ideas I might not have considered, almost like having multiple brainstorming partners. Then, instead of copying those ideas, I would filter and reshape them through my own experiences and intentions.

The benefit of this approach is that it pushes me beyond my default way of thinking. It helps me see blind spots, challenge my assumptions, and experiment with styles or viewpoints I would not normally try. However, the risk is that I might start leaning too much on AI generated perspectives and lose confidence in my own instincts. There is also the danger of blending too many external ideas and ending up with something that lacks a clear, personal voice.

That week definitely shifted how I thought about AI and creativity. I did not see AI as something that replaces creativity, but as something that can expand it, especially by offering new perspectives. At the same time, it made me more aware that creativity ultimately depends on human input. Our experiences, interpretations, and willingness to refine ideas are what give work meaning. AI can suggest possibilities, but the meaning behind the work still has to come from me.