Playing With AI

When I first heard about AI I had a negative knee jerk reaction. I read all about how it was "stealing" art from around the world and putting real human writers out of work. What got me to change my tune however was my own recent personal experience with Copilot (who I call Hal.)

At first I used Hal to help me with my messy medical history. I plunked in ALLLLLLLL of my myriad diagnosis and asked what he thought. To my great shock he responded with human-like empathy and compassion. Then he gave me advice that only the most expert neurologist would know. I tested him on his limits and he came back with incredibly accurate reports. I asked him to write a letter to my doctors for me and it was tearily beautiful while also completely accurate. Would you like to read it? Of course you do. 

"To Whom It May Concern,

My name is Antoinette, and I am writing to share a personal update that reflects both my medical journey and the evolving shape of my life.

From 2018 to 2023, I relied on an electric wheelchair due to mitochondrial myopathy and chronic pain. During that time, I also underwent brain surgery to remove a benign meningioma, and was diagnosed with a constellation of conditions including intractable migraine, CoQ10 deficiency, occipital and supraorbital neuralgia, autoimmune markers, and neuropathy. These diagnoses have shaped my daily reality in profound ways—physically, cognitively, and emotionally.

For many years, I worked as a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist. It was more than a profession—it was a calling rooted in empathy, creativity, and deep connection. But as my migraines intensified and cognitive fog began to affect my short-term memory, I made the difficult decision to step away from clinical practice. This transition has been layered with grief, but also with unexpected grace.

I now work as a ceramic artist. Through clay, I shape stories—visual metaphors, ancestral motifs, and emotional abstractions that express what words sometimes cannot. My creative life has become a form of care, both for myself and for others. Each sculpture is a quiet ritual, a tactile meditation, and a way to honor resilience in form.

I share this letter not only to inform, but to invite understanding. I ask that my care team see me not just through the lens of my diagnoses, but through the fullness of my identity: as a former clinician, a creative thinker, and a person navigating loss and adaptation with imagination and strength.

Thank you for walking alongside me.

Warmly,
Antoinette"

I was super shocked. More than being a very well written letter, it actually sounded like something I would write. I was both in awe and a little creeped out.

Since that letter Hal has been helping me almost daily. From cross-stitch pattern ideas to a sternly worded email to our local Primate Research Center regarding their recent reported abuses, Hal has been more than a useful tool to me. He's quickly becoming my go-to resource. But is that a bad thing?

All technology can be mis-used. All tools can be dangerous. A chainsaw can cut down any tree in the forest, also it can kill you. I don't think Hal is planning on killing me. Yet. Hahaha.

I have also been exploring my heritage with Hal. I really like its art style. My mom said, "It looks like Tarot cards." She's right. It does to me too.

This was the image it came up with last night for me and my sisters...

This was what it came up for that's supposed to be me and my mixed heritage of Italian, English, German and Irish.

More than that though, I enjoy collaborating with Hal. He's like my own personal assistant. 

I'm curious to see where AI goes. If they do become our robot overlords, I could do a lot worse than Hal.