In the Pursuit of Done

Periplo - As a kid, it was more often than not that I would wander into a state of "done." The journey was playful, and what came out of it was nice but nothing more than happenstance.

In a world with OpenAI and generative text, one would think getting a blog off the ground is super easy. This is probably true for some. Yet, this has been a lingering project that I've sat on for almost half a year now.

The truth is, none of my writing starts with AI. I'm generally quiet in person, with many unspoken ideas. Over time, however, I've noticed a growing circle of people who value my insights. This is a heartening change since it means I get to spend more time on thought exploration and challenges to my reasoning through their questions. I prefer this constructive engagement over dismissive interactions that leave a bad taste.

On the flip side, as I broaden my reach, the fear of being wrong looms larger, threatening to reset my credibility. Now, I know I can be mistaken. However, I would much rather be right. That in-of-itself is what has made starting up this blog so hard.

I often view topics through a lens of logic and reason, leading to the misconception that there are definitive right and wrong answers. I sometimes fall into this binary thinking trap despite advocating for a different perspective. However, my art and graphic design background has provided me with an escape from that rigid mindset. In many ways, the words I type into a file are like me filling out sections of a canvas - whether it's broad strokes outlining functionality or detailed, meticulously tested functions. Like art, software development has its styles and patterns, and what's "done" for one may not be for another. Too many times, I've witnessed software becoming overwrought in the quest for "done."

Unlike digital mediums, physical art forms impose natural constraints on revisions, so, like it or not, you have to be "done" at some point. Over-erasing weakens the paper, and excessive painting can ruin the texture. Over time, I gravitated towards pen drawing for its even smaller revision tolerance; overdoing it leads to a blotchy mess.

In contrast, software development's forgiveness, facilitated by tools like Git, often prolongs the journey to "done." Writing, too, shares this dilemma. Unlike software, where "done" can be a collective decision based on agreed-upon standards and patterns, AI-driven writing feels perpetually unfinished. Tools like Grammarly can alter my tone, leaving me questioning the authenticity of the final piece.

The evolution of AI to capture individual styles and nuances is imminent. I'm curious if it'll get a consistent reflection of me that I'm happy with and resonates with those who appreciate my opinion. Furthermore, will I trust its interpretation of "done" enough to publish more consistently? Will I risk misguidance or embrace the possibility of AI enhancing fact-checking and strengthening my arguments?

I hope you find these thoughts compelling, and I welcome your insights as we navigate this fascinating intersection of technology and creativity.