Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Sunday, July 28, 2024

Music, Poetry and AI - A troubadour's final word


 

I have been exploring the use of AI to write songs to accompany my poems. This is a remarkable time for the creative arts. We need to figure out how to certify authenticity and protect IP, image, and privacy. It is still a wild place out there -- but a fascinating place.

This will be my last presentation of AI in this matter because it doesn't age well and the technology and implications are changing very quickly.

A final word from a 21st century troubadour

Here are some links to my music channel with the outcome of this work

   / @utlandersongs  

and   / tom-ask-479096822   Here is an earlier discussion of AI and music:    • Song vs poetry - and a new remix!   AI and personal style:    • Style versus AI   AI and ideation:    • Death of Ideation Sketches  

Tuesday, November 29, 2022

 


Personal Style: Where do personal style and AI intersect? *

Do we truly have our own sense of personal style, or are we just copying the influencers around us?

Investigating how well AI could copy my own personal style made me think of the nature of personal style. What does that mean in the era of large datasets that seem to contain all styles. Do we somehow just pick and choose from what is out there? What distinctive, original content lies inside of us? Is there nothing new under the sun?

People can slightly unleash themselves from the culture and community of influencers. We are distinct because we can surprisingly change our style. Machine learning that looks at past datasets can’t predict our shedding of old rules and taking in new ones. In addition, people can be exposed to events or engage in experiences that modify their personal style. We can possibly work with the world of AI by curating your own datasets.

Reducing Creative Expression to a Flow Chart…Yuck

Everyone is creative. However, expressing creativity outside the daily requirements of problem solving and moving into art and music goes through three basic steps.

  1. Imagination of creator
  2. Technology to implement creation
  3. Physiology of viewer

But there is feedback, whether be from how your paint is showing on the canvas or the music to your ears or the feedback from other people (Picasso and Braque are a famous example of productive peer critiques).

It could be modeled as follows:

 

A picture of creative expression

Employing rules to bring personal mental images or musical creations to an audience broadens access to these processes. Seeking to communicate creative impulses with rules and structure extracted from cultural norms and other sources democratized artistic and musical expression. Children learn normative rules in speaking and writing that quickly let them use these abilities to express individual thoughts. A parent understands, “I miss daddy” as well as a lengthy narrative about loneliness and familial connections. A child’s stick figure drawing showing two people holding hands, presents as clear a meaning as a painting of the same thing.

We can quickly use normative rules to engage in art forms that may have traditionally been moderated by human gatekeepers. Introducing these rules can open a corridor for richer expression of ideas. Moreover, coupling these rules with intuitive software, online instruction, and the unfettered communications on the internet, allows more inclusive entrance into creating art and music.

Rules can guide the novice. For example, in music the relationship between notes that make up a chord are established and culturally conditioned. Moreover, the progression of these chords follows commonly recognized sequences. Therefore, one can couple lyrics with a chord progression that turns poetry into music. The visual arts also have rules related to guiding compositions and color. Moreover, artificial intelligence has been used in music and the visual arts to identify and redeploy patterns in new work.

I’m Offended!

Musical composers should be offended at the notion of creating music by simply accompanying lyrics with a rule-based (or sampled) approach. This offends the depth, breadth, and creative majesty of musical composition. A traditionally trained artist will likewise be offended at artwork produced by morphing existing images and applying colors from a standardized color scheme. However, musical and artistic creation can be democratized by identifying patterns and normative rules which are redeployed in a new, personal form.


Here is a remix of the song with a discussion of process. The remix is at the end.




* Much of the last two blog posts and YouTube song derive from my most recent ASEE paper, Engineering Art: Democratizing artistic expression using normative rules. The proceedings have not been published yet.

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Reflecting on life, cogitation on inaction


I have written almost a quarter million words in my journal.  Describing my life, reflecting on experiences in prose and poem.  While no one should care about my life, with the possible exception of my children, I write because I must.  Although I write to the wind, it gives me a chance to reflect on things.  We are fortunate if even two generations of our progeny care about us.  After that, we are just names and dates. 


However, too much time on introspection: can be a problem.  Did Emily Dickinson live life robustly or did she just document a provincial dwelling robustly?  Sometimes we need to reflect, sometimes we need to act.  While General Ian Hamilton’s troops were being slaughtered at Gallipoli during World War I, he thought broadly and deeply about life.  He shared these thoughts in long diary entries.

“Each evening their commander in chief before retiring in his bunk on the battleship, wrote five thousand word entries in his diary, reflecting upon the mysteries and ironies of life.”   (The Last Lion, William Manchester, Little Brown and Co., 1983, p 551.)

I would probably do the same thing. Maybe people of action don’t leave a long paper or video trail but they live life robustly.

Thursday, November 10, 2016

Ancient Words



I like poetry.  Reading ancient poetry reveals the similarity of emotional concerns over time.  I was looking at 10th century poetry from Arab Andalusia (southern Spain) and noted it shares the lyric tradition of Sappho 1600 years prior.  I can image the evening soirĂ©es where this poetry was read, what a way to end a day!

I particularly identified with a poem by Ibrahim ib Ulthman’s “Apology” that who shows a respectful treatment for the “gift of the Muses”.

          Don’t cross me off as fickle
because a singing voice
has captured my heart,

One must be serious sometimes
and lighthearted at other times;

like wood from which come
both the singers’ lute
and the warrior’s bow.

This poem was attractive to me because it characterizes my personality.  Someone who enjoys laughter and even being silly yet my underlying temperament can be deadly serious.  Humor does not preclude serious opinions and emotions.  The fact that someone one thousand years ago can describe me is a pleasant reminder of the commonality of humanity and the shared traits across time and culture.

Imagine this peaceful scene of friendship, food and drink as illustrated in Abd al-Aziz ibn al-Qabtrnuh’s “Invitation”:

Your friend invites you
to enjoy two shimmer pots
already giving off
a savory odor,
some perfumes,
a carafe of wine,
a delicious place

Although in somewhat of a contrast, I encountered an epitaph that highlighted the fear and sadness we also share with the ancients.  The ancient Greek scholar, Kallimachos (c. 294-235 BC) recited the following epitaph for a son: “His father Philip laid here the twelve-year old boy Nikoteles:  his dearest hope.”

I am left graced by the walk through these poems and pleasantly satisfied that one can speak with a neighbor of so long ago.  I am very thankful for translators who handled these difficult works!

Friday, May 27, 2016

More Poetry




Summer Wounds

I’ll put a swab of goop here and there

And lay a bandage with silly care.

“That scratch is ok, that how it’s should look

The bruise is small and we can sew that tear.”

 

You will limp for a minute (and I for a day)

“Let’s keep going, we all want to play.”

 

A summer day leaves us,

With grins and a bruise,

To remember the day

We did what we choose.

Gray Morning

 To bus in gray highlighted darkness

The yellow an ochre smudge.

 

Climb on in promising promise

To grab what they present.

 

Learn between the pages

And your teachers’ chats.

 

They learn what is there

While we wait in fear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 







Giving

Bird slides a stick into a warming nest.

Callused hand lain on a frightened head.

Mother’s heartbeat calms a worried soul.

I too bring my love like water

Gently wrapped around a smoothened stone.

Gently Aging

The morning walk grows late

Sun warms my skin clad skull

 

Pleasant moment, where is future’s cry?


Frayed blanket dulls falcon’s glare
Slowing my skates in heavy snow
The winds lie silent while I wait

Love walked with steady gait

But left passion astride

Don’t let it wane

When biology is done

 

Please walk further and feed my brain

 

I know the taste of a comet’s tail

And the pulse of the ocean’s swell

I remember a rainbow when it was worth a long gaze

 

Now I see over curved vistas

And leave the present to the mites

 

My hair is not washed by wisdom

But simply gray

My walk is stifled by joints ground flat

These gifts of the rush of time

 

Please leave me my senses, my future, my dreams

 

Moments have raced through

Raising the height which wonders must leap

To turn my neck and draw eyebrows up

 

Passion walk with me further

Let a new car’s smell make magic stir

Let a wife’s kiss sparkle my eyes

And a child’s call stop my cries

 

Let a rainbow stop me for a delicious moment.

Poetry





I have written poems all my life, most are about God and my children.  Here are some for those that like poetry but I'm including some of my paintings too, which I hope you enjoy.

 

Time Warrior

Days’ race taunting me

Get on the course

 

Ride with passion

Full-blooded horse.


A minute is a sacred vow

To prove life is present now.              



Hiding Place

Wind touches grass and smiles,

Clouds color awaiting sky.

 

Green breaks the living soil

And washes the soothed eye.

 

Whispers enter these gathered lilacs;

Perfect time in this summer place.

 

Where we can hide together

In silent, welcoming grace.


 

Peace

Lay on rested shoulders

Wreath of gently aged leaves

We worship at your center

And kick you from aside.

Grace our days

And

Please survive.


The Class

Scratch the board with squealing thoughts

Numbers ramble and lights glare,

Concrete floor and white papered tables

Flying facts as you sit and stare.

 

Sullied air, reused too oft

Why don’t you let me out,

To run with the wind

And free the trapped shout?

 

Hot blowing air

Push book strewn force

On his jangled hair

To silence droning voice.

 

But in cave of concrete and paper

Grew knowledge of wonderful things

That may, I hope dear students,

Ease in tomorrow’s stings.

 

 

Lemanak River

Vine wrapped ceiling
Giant timbers reach
Palette of greens
Sticking to the sky

Muddy river droning
Current always on
Moving melody
Licorice magma flow

Far from home bed
Sliver of web’s reach
Swimming with the children
They trust my steady legs
Laughter blends with:

Water gushing,
Insect buzzing,
Primordial smells creeping,
Wet air washing,
Sunlight straining.

My arms pull Elayna and steady Eric
And these moments rage
Down the river flowing.

Is this the perfect time?