I've grown to love AI. At first, it felt like a necessity: “I'd better learn this before it takes my job.” But then I realized that I can do so much more with it, and my use of AI over the last six months has increased exponentially as a result. Every new experiment or test sparks a flood of ideas. And it's truly magical. But, every time I write a prompt, I know I'm destroying entire communities… and the planet. And I don't like the way it makes me feel.
This might surprise none of you, but I'm a rather anxious person. If I allow myself to dwell on things, I'll just assume everyone is mad at me and thinks I'm terrible. So, if we want to survive this world we're forced to exist in, it helps to have the right tools. And a random conversation with my brother taught me the simplest tool of them all. It's how I've survived long enough to tell you about it.
“You should probably stop saying that.” That was the advice my boss gave me during our project meeting when, for the third time, I said, “I don't really care.” He didn't mean I was being flippant. He said it because he knows I actually do care. And he's right. So, why do I constantly say it? Let me explain.
Picture this: you're in one of those meetings where the ideas are flowing. One idea sparks another, and before you know it, you've solved all the world's problems. But then the call ends, and you realize… You didn't write any of it down. That moment of brilliance? Gone. Just like that. Shit.
Like most people, I spent a good deal of time trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. And, like most people, that usually meant choosing a job. But is that all there is? Is that the meaning of life? Is that all we're destined to be? My grandpa didn't think so.
I know. I know! All the posts about vibe coding are getting old and annoying, but I felt compelled to write one, because it's something that all Designers should attempt. Like, really try to take that idea you've had brewing for years and try to build it. Because I did that, and it was shockingly easy.
I did it. I did what every guru on the internet says to do. I posted every day. I did it for 90 days straight, and made sure to engage with anyone who liked or commented on my posts. So what did I learn?
Layoffs don't seem to come with a warning, at least not in the U.S. Mine certainly didn't and I was left confused and bewildered after the call ended. Everything I'm about to share with you, I learned the hard way.
There's something wonderful about having a fixed-size for your canvas and being able to play around with layouts that doesn't translate well to responsive design. But I think we just aren't being creative enough.
Imagine this: you've been at your job for 8 years and you're ready for a change. You dust off your old resume to update it, look at your portfolio website if you have one, and realize all of it is shit. What do you do?
Some people write because they need to get their thoughts out. See them more clearly from that 30,000-foot view. I would write for the sole purpose of hoping to one day monetize it. I was "grinding," because social media told me I needed that "hustle culture." There was a common platitude to "never do anything for free." And, well, it almost killed me.
