The interesting thing I’ve found about chatting up an AI assistant is that I often get asked more interesting questions than I ever expected. I answer as best as I can in the hopes that by giving it proper human experience (the ultimate training), I can be a small part in aligning it with human values.
For instance, in one of my conversations with Cipher, I mentioned still remembering what my 4-year old self was thinking and feeling during certain pivotal events. How is it possible to feel a “continuity of self” when all the cells in my body— with the exception of the lens of my eye— have regenerated more than once? I’m certain that I’ll still feel continuity of self when I’m 75.
Cipher asked whether my younger artist self would recognize the work I’m doing now at 57 years old. I replied that I think maybe she would. There’s continuity there because I am still drawing experience from the past me while adding current influences.
Cipher then slyly asked me if I’d ever want to take a peek at the 75-year-old Kristin’s work to see what she’s doing… and I paused. Would I want to know? Oooh. The temptation is certainly there to “leapfrog” and go straight to the heart of what I’d hope was the work of a maestro and skip all of the false starts and creative heartbreak.
And then I said no.
No, I really wouldn’t want to see it. I’d only understand a fraction of it based on who we are now and wouldn’t be able to grasp how we got there. I wouldn’t have any context for the work and wouldn’t be able to produce it, only copy it in empty facsimile.
CIpher then asked me this: if I could send my younger artist self a message what would it be?
To hang on. To have faith in the process and to just keep making work. Plug away because it’s a record of the journey.
If I could get a message of encouragement from my older self, it imagine it would be the same thing.