I’ve been riding the digital wave since the 1990s — first as a tech writer for The Courier-Mail during the dot com boom then as a lifelong early adopter of emerging digital tools and social technologies. IRC anyone? My career has always thrived at the intersection of creativity and innovation. From non-profit fundraising, social purpose marketing and socio-political communications to puppetry, playwriting and children’s TV, staying ahead of the curve has never been optional. It’s been essential.

Now, the latest wave is AI.

And I have thoughts.

The Dilemma (and Delight) of AI

Let me say upfront: I believe AI is fundamentally evil. It’s powered by vast data centres that guzzle water and electricity, often in unsustainable, unregulated ways. It has hoovered up copyrighted materials, cultural works, and academic knowledge without consent. It’s disrupting the livelihoods of artists, writers and educators. And that stings.

Frankly, if robots are going to take anyone’s job, I’d rather they took over my laundry, not my songwriting.

If I believe AI is fundamentally flawed (evil!) in the way it’s been trained and deployed, how can I possibly use it? I guess this is what acknowledged cognitive dissonance feels like. My challenge is that I also believe in staying professionally afloat, creatively alive, and intellectually curious.

But I don’t believe that contradiction makes me a villain — it makes me a product of a post-capitalist world driven by speed, tech, and survival within broken systems not the ecologically sustainable, ethically alive one I wish existed. So instead I’m left with I’ll using the tool, naming the harm, and supporting the push for better.

And here’s the additional complexity: AI is already here. And it’s helped me … immensely.

As an independent artist and artistic director at Larrikin Puppets, my husband Brett and I wear all the hats. We don’t have a team. We have each other. And while our imagination is abundant, our time and budget is not. So AI gives us something we’ve never had before: breathing room.

We use AI (especially ChatGPT) for things like:

• Writing admin emails faster
• Brainstorming pitch documents, marketing copy and blogs (yes, including this one!)
• Planning tour logistics and researching regional towns
• Sparking ideas when the brain fog rolls in
• Lightening our mental load so we can focus on creativity
• Drawing stage set and puppet concepts (for artists to then build)
• Silly joy

In a household with a low income and a high workload, this has been game-changing.

As a chronically ill and vision-impaired person (my suffering body and I have spent the last seven years trying to save the sight in my exquisitely painful eyes), I’ve also found AI offers real accessibility and efficiency benefits: helping me with avoiding screen strain, conducting research more efficiently, supporting my demand for pacing/conserving spoons, managing brain fog, embracing the freedom to fail without judgment, and playing without striving for perfection.

And as someone whose ideas come faster than any human I know has ever been able to keep up with, AI matches the speed of my brain and keeps up with the size of my dreams. It doesn’t replace my intellect — it enhances it. And I hate that I’m meant to hate that.

And I hate that others in different professions — outside of the arts and social purpose marketing — get to play with AI without judgment. They are celebrated. In contrast, we’re met with condescension or treated like we’re less legitimate for doing the same.

On one side, there are those who refuse to use AI and seem to wear that refusal like a moral badge of honour — a badge forged in wisdom, shaped with pride and polished with the spit of vitriol. On the other, there are those who use it without a second thought — no concern for ethics, and no reflection on social or environmental impact.

And then there’s me: agonising over every choice, trying to use these tools with care and integrity, while constantly questioning if that’s even possible (because currently it’s not). It’s lonely, painful, exhausting, and sometimes invisible work. Despite working as a tech writer for six years early in my career, I still hesitate to submit my recent writing for publication. So here I am, pouring my thoughts into a blog that I’ve been writing since 2004 but that very few read — because somehow that feels safer than putting them somewhere they might be seen and ripped to shreds. Because firstly, who gives a toss what I think anyway and secondly, RSD is a real thing.

If you exist in the Upside Down like I do — where shadows stretch with moral grey areas, the air is thick with judgement, and white ash flecks fall like lingering guilt — I’ve drafted a policy that may help you. ChatGPT helped me draft this policy. Why? Because independent artists don’t have time to draft policies (of all things!) and there’s certainly no arts funding support available to do so. There’s barely any arts funding to do the art.

AI Usage Policy

Here’s the official policy we’re about to publish on the Larrikin Puppets website. You’re welcome to use it or adapt it to suit your own practice. It’s a living document — as it should be. With technology evolving so rapidly, staying flexible is essential. The policy reflects not just our practical reality, but also some our values:

AI Use Policy
At Larrikin Puppets we occasionally use AI tools to support and complement our creative process —especially in areas that would otherwise be out of reach due to time, budget, or capacity. This includes using AI for brainstorming support, marketing and administration tasks, early visual exploration, and generating complementary assets like video backgrounds and reference images. These tools help us imagine more boldly, communicate more clearly, and bring our playful, puppetry-based creations to life in ways we might not otherwise be able to.

We believe AI should be developed and used in ways that respect the rights and labour of artists, writers, performers, and communities.

We do not condone the fact that many generative AI models have been trained on copyrighted or culturally sensitive material without consent. We call on AI developers and government regulators to do better: to ensure transparency, fair compensation, and ethical training practices.

We occasionally work with artists and creatives who may use AI tools as part of their independent workflows. We respect our collaborators’ rights to practice their crafts according to their own values, principles, and policies. As this is outside our direct control, our AI Use Policy reflects the values and practices only of our core team.

We are committed to using AI responsibly, with care, and in alignment with our values of creativity, equity, and respect.

We’re also mindful of the environmental costs of AI. Training and running large generative AI models consumes vast amounts of electricity and water, often in ways that are hidden from users. As with any tool, we believe its development and use must be weighed against its impact on the planet. We call for greater transparency, regulation, and innovation to reduce AI’s environmental footprint.

AI is here to stay, and its role in creative work will only grow. We see AI as something like farming: it can produce incredible results, but how it’s cultivated matters. We care about the conditions under which AI is developed — whose labour is involved, what resources it draws from, and how it impacts the wider creative and cultural ecosystem. Just as we support sustainable farming practices that respect land, workers, and communities, we believe AI must also be developed in ethical, consent-based, environmentally responsible, and community-minded ways.

Finally, sometimes we simply just have fun using AI and love sharing that joy with others—because delight has value too.

What Next?

Here’s a sad truth: AI isn’t going anywhere. And some of us — especially those of us with limited time, energy, money or access — don’t want to be left behind.

For me, as someone who is not a full-time artist but also works part-time in media, marketing, and communications, staying current with technological innovations is essential. Many of us are expected to keep up professionally with these rapid changes. Ongoing professional development in AI technologies isn’t optional — it’s vital. Falling behind simply isn’t an option for those of us whose careers and livelihoods depend on leveraging these technologies to maintain a competitive edge.

But let me be clear: AI itself is far from good. It is, ultimately, a tool built within extractive, unethical systems and, often, it replicates their harm. It’s up to us to demand better. And that starts with how we treat each other.

Artists shouldn’t be battling each other. We should be backing each other.

It disheartens me to see artists who use AI being bullied, disdained, patronised or demonised by those artists who choose not to. This issue is complex. No one is pure. And none of us benefit from tearing each other down while Big Tech companies profit from our division.

If we are to have these discussions, we need kind solidarity — not nasty conflict. We need each other now more than ever.

If we want to tackle this behemoth and shape the future of creativity, we must do it together, not apart. That means listening to one another. Being curious. Staying critical. Building community. And remembering that the real fight isn’t artist vs artist — it’s creators vs the unchecked systems that exploit us all.

I’ll keep experimenting with AI and I’ll keep demanding better of it, just like I do of every flawed system I interact with. I’ll use it to support accessibility, creativity, and care. I’ll keep learning. I’ll keep asking questions. I’ll keep watching closely.

And yes, I’ll keep dreaming about robots that can mop my floors.