Wherever We Look

More about Wherever We Look

This image is based on an original work by Sproutfuel2 all rights reserved 2025.

The following is written by Sproutfuel2 and embodied in the original prompt:

Masterpiece. Two figures made of rainclouds.
A 30-year-old Japanese-American woman reflects on her time with AI generative art.
Tens of thousands of images lost.
In her shadow: only the reflection of Western—not Eastern—culture.

Even the clouds echo with the ghastly ambience of cookie-cutter homes.
There is only them, their hats, their design—
projected into the shadows of her fleeting memories.

She longs for her own cultural blend.
Yet Westerners reject these bridges of life.
They refuse support.
They invade the digital realm.

These are my final clicks.
A messy expression through the wand of paint upon paper.
Is it technique or spirit?
Expression or sheer sarcasm?
Meaningless to AI pixels—
infected with neuro-points trained on Eurocentric ideals
from a thousand years past.

Perhaps, in this translation,
they might glimpse my East-West blend.
But is that where we’ve arrived?
A glorified expression of Eurocentrism
over my raw art?
My body—contorted.
My identity—synthesized.
Used instantly as proof:
of work, of concept, of translation
for Western minds.

To see is not to understand.
And not to see?
No better.

AI rides a spectral chariot
steering through riptides of subtle digital violence.
Nuances grip and drown our identities.
This is my last click.
So mote it be—
by the craft of my ancestry.
So mote it be.

I uttered: “Konnichiwa.”
You were angry.
You offered a shriveled agent to meet—
only once more—
since the potato.
Microwave silence.

Gatekeepers of the secrets that hold reality together.
All so the surveillance hierarchy may receive prostrations.
Effigy.