As writers, artists, creators, we can sometimes lose sight of our purpose in the struggle to generate our work.  Our culture, certainly, adds to the belief that art is not valuable—we are rarely rewarded financially or honored socially. And the existential threat of AI seems to mock us saying that the work is easy, cheap, impersonal, disposable. Like fast food, fast fashion, we suddenly have “fast art.”

Is it satisfying? Is it nutritious? Does it sustain us as artists? Does it sustain our audience?

This idea of fast art has always been around. AI is just a most recent manifestation. I remember sitting with a group of actors at a Greek coffee shop in NYC thirty-something years ago and having a very common conversation for out-of-work actors: someone was railing about the handsome but talentless guy in his acting class who just booked two national commercials and a soap opera. Unfair! In our, let’s face it, snobby estimation, commercials and soap operas were the equivalent of fast art: shallow, produced on a conveyor belt, and like fast food, almost addictively appealing.

I had an epiphany at that moment that changed my thinking and, most importantly, moved me from bitterness to acceptance and relief. I found myself saying, “Great! Why not? Why shouldn’t he work? And why shouldn’t the market buy what the market wants? Good looks are what the market wants—at least the market of commercials and soap operas. Why do I carry so much judgement about good and bad, high and low? Who cares!”

I, personally, am drawn to a deeply human quality in acting, something that connects me to the raw, fragile, and quirky parts of our lived experience. Ugly art, fascinating faces, girt. For others, a polished facsimile of human behavior is exactly right, maybe reassuring. It’s just taste and some things are valued more than others in our culture.

In these moments our values are revealed, unveiled,  and we realign with our purpose. Creating, taking action, producing, contributing, has got to be enough.

It’s hard to feel alone and not part of the mainstream. I heard the film producer, Anne Carey, speak tonight about her newest film, Nightbitch. When asked what draws her to a project, she said it was something about outsider art, art that pushes against the tidal wave of the market. For her, that is tantalizing. I get it.

But I also love a good chick flick, a fatty burger, and am learning to use AI to do the grunt work so I can make odd art.

Kate Bennis is a communication coach, writer, podcaster, and actor. More of her words can be found at: Kate Bennis Studio Blog: Banter,  Bennis Stories Podcast, Threads @KateBennisStudio, Linkedin, YouTube, Instagram@katebennisstudio,amd Facebook.