top of page

Contact Us

We'd love to hear from you at info@pipgallery.com

Thanks for submitting!

Flipbook Backpage (15.24 x 15.24 cm) (4).jpg
  • Pinterest
  • Instagram
  • Facebook
  • Youtube
  • TikTok

Thanks for subscribing!

Exploring the Flaws in AI: Understanding the Imperfection of Perfection

  • Writer: Paula Phelan
    Paula Phelan
  • Apr 29
  • 2 min read

Previously, I introduced the term "AI sludge," initially describing the awkward, flawed images churned out by early AI art generators. But as AI has rapidly evolved, so too has my understanding of what constitutes sludge. AI today produces images of striking, almost unsettling perfection—so flawless, they lose their authenticity. It has reached the point where many of us actively instruct our prompts to produce something "not too beautiful." Nature and humanity thrive in imperfection, and it's precisely those imperfections that give life and art their resonance.

Apollo Greek God
Apollo Greek God

The stark perfection of AI images often marks them as artificial, their polished surfaces lacking the charming flaws of reality. But this will inevitably change as technology adapts to the nuanced ways people use these tools. Right now, animation within AI tools particularly struggles. Despite impressive demonstrations on promotional websites, achieving similar results is cumbersome and frustrating. Yet, with user feedback and refinement, practical improvements are inevitable.


I've also noticed an intriguing parallel between AI-generated art and traditional photography: roughly one out of ten images truly resonate. This isn’t new; photographers, painters, and artists across mediums often find that only a fraction of their work truly hits the mark. The rest—sludge, if you will—accumulates silently in digital storage.

 

Yet, something unexpected has emerged from this AI sludge. As I've started sharing more of my outtakes, I've discovered they resonate deeply with others, often more than images I meticulously select. It was a recent experience printing cards for a group of kids—my unofficial "focus group"—that opened my eyes. The pieces I'd dismissed as imperfect, or off-target were the ones they gravitated toward. The same happened when I shared these outtakes on social media, highlighting that my aesthetic judgment doesn't universally define what makes art meaningful.



This experience has profoundly shifted my perspective. The idea of "great art" being objectively superior now seems suspect. Art’s value truly lies in the eye of the beholder, not in some universally agreed-upon standard of perfection. The notion of destroying work that doesn't meet an arbitrary ideal feel increasingly misguided. Instead, preserving these works—even those considered flawed—allows them to gain meaning over time. What seems inconsequential today might speak volumes tomorrow.


Ultimately, AI sludge is teaching me more than anticipated—about art, perception, and our inherently flawed but beautifully diverse human experience.


Paula Phelan

PiP Art Gallery

 

 
 
 
bottom of page