On Artificial Intelligence. by Mark Leichliter

I was curious about the new Artificial Intelligence tools and their usefulness for creating artwork. I played around with MidJourney for a month, deciding at the outset to pay for the Pro version for 30 days, then assess the outcome. For those unfamiliar, these new AI tools work by taking a textual prompt and converting that phrase into a visual design. With MidJourney, it builds four designs, from which you can choose to further refine or base another set of new designs upon. So, at that point curation enters the room. I found the process of choosing the wording of the prompt, then choosing which result to further refine, to be remarkably similar to the process I’d employed in making digital artwork prior to experimenting with AI — with one glaring difference: the connection I felt with the process was tenuous at best, and an utter mystery at worst. The algorithm often created designs that had either no discernible connection to the prompt, no identifiable aesthetic value, or both. At first, this felt fascinating, like trying to converse with an alien sentience and divine its inner workings. But, try as I might, I simply could not find any connection between the process and the output that had any hint of a symbology or logos. In other words, there is no discernible intelligence in artificial intelligence. I’ve always defined Art as the skillful creation of idiomatic definitions for the human experience, be it through sounds, words, bodily movement, or visual stimuli. The critical aspect of it all is that revelatory tone that harmonizes within us, somehow connecting us to a greater whole than we can access without it. The lack within the AI of any root of humanness precludes this deeper connection, and cheapens the act of making and the work made.

Another aspect of the text-to-image AI is how it builds its designs; the algorithm is “trained” by exposing it to imagery. At this point, the vast majority of this imagery is created by human artists — and the pool of images used is gathered without the expressed consent of the creators. Add to this the ability of the prompt writer to explicitly call for inclusion of specific artist work or “style” within the prompt, and you have a recipe for egregious copyright infringement and sanctioned plagiarism. I was unaware of this when I first started my MidJourney experiments, and gradually learned of it as I went along through posts on social media and journalist’s articles. This, along with the feeling of disconnection from humanity I felt in the process, prompted me to abandon my AI experiments.

Some thoughts as they happened from my journal: HERE.

Gratitude. by Mark Leichliter

Ok, let me see how this goes. I’ve tried writing this several times, and failed when the emotions just became too overwhelming. Maybe, enough distance now.

Orange cat with light green eyes looking over his back at the camera.

This is Roscoe. He was my best friend for 11 years. Now, the realization that a cat had held such a place in my life wasn’t without some consternation and reproach. It speaks to my problems with trust and intimacy with people, predicated on a certain status quo that may not be fundamentally true nor useful, but present nonetheless.

He was as robust and full life as any being I’ve ever known; and then, seemingly overnight, wasting and lethargic and a shadow of himself. This is the unspoken truth of mortality, of life itself: that which animates and enervates us is invisible until it’s not. The desperate measures were undertaken, the quintessentially American solution of expensive medicine pursued — in the end, to no avail. But at least we knew what the problem was: lymphoma. It was conceivable that, with dedication, money, and an egoistic approach, we could extend his stay with us a few months, maybe a year. Alas, he didn’t respond to the medical intervention; refused to eat; struggled to drink. The regimen of pills and potions began to feel cruel. It became self-evident that the merciful and humane thing had become the necessary thing. Our wonderful vet came and helped us end his suffering; it was the most beautiful and heartrending thing I’ve endured in a very long time. I will miss him, perhaps more than words can suffice to say. I will miss his astounding heft, his physical presence going from a nuisance to a comfort, even his insistence on sleeping sidelong between my knees, like having a sack of furry concrete there. He LOVED lap time in the evening, and so did I. His classic Manx build, with jackrabbit hind end, made him the champion leaper, earning the nickname “Mr. Boing.” One year, when he was just a teenager, we had an unusually intense infestation of miller moths, and he (and I) quickly honed our moth slaying skills to a razor’s edge. To his final day, his response to the word “bug” was instantaneous and enthusiastic — and forget trying to sleep if he discovered one on his own in the night; it was required that you get up and participate in neutralizing the intruder. He got in trouble once for leaving the yard; he never left it again. I trimmed his claws when they got unwieldy once; from then on, he would studiously manicure them himself to avoid the indignity. Or, he just was a very, very good boy, who just wanted to get along and do the right thing. Beyond all the endearing mundanities, what I’ll miss most about my furry orange friend is the friendship itself, the unbridled love we had for each other, transcending our alienness and the supposed hierarchy of our consciousness. There is a doorway through to the deepest and best parts of ourselves and our world that can only be opened by our love for our pets — and for opening that door for me, I have nothing but eternal gratitude.

Thank you, Roscoe.

Event Horizon. by Mark Leichliter

This project kind of came out of the blue, courtesy of the hard work of The National Sculptors’ Guild. The City of Paramount, California commissioned me to scale up this smaller, gallery-sized piece to add some pizzazz to their Progress Plaza at City Hall.

Below are some progress shots of the fabrication process.

Local Color. by Mark Leichliter

Delivered my latest public art piece to the City of Little Rock, Arkansas. I won a national competition to design a sculpture, with the criteria being wide open; they wanted the artists submitting to have free reign to create whatever they could dream up. I’m honored and humbled to have once again worked with the fine folks out there to build something cool to enhance the community.

"Local Color" came about after my discovery of the State Butterfly of Arkansas, the Diana Fritillary. I was intrigued by the startling contrast between the male and female of the species, and the complimentary hues of each. The Diana displays marked Sexual Dimorphism, wherein the sexes have dramatically different size or coloration. The sculpture consists of both forms of the Diana, realized in multiple metals with differing finishes, on opposite sides of a low relief–like a coin with heads and tails. The striking differences give the sculpture a built-in Eureka moment, as well providing a platform for discovering the beauty of Arkansas' natural world.

Below are some shots of the design and proposal for the project.

…and a bunch of photos from the actual fabrication:


Local Color finished - male side

Local Color finished - the female side

Fire Tools. by Mark Leichliter

Once I decided the CinderCone required an ash door to clean out the fire basin, it was pretty self-evident that some tools to facilitate the process were in order. That, and my own set of tools was pretty homely and long in the tooth. I elected to run with the hexagon motif and stick with solid stainless for the material.

The Poker/Hook. Went with hexagonal rod for the shaft to really drive home the idea that Hexes Are Awesome.

The Poker/Hook. Went with hexagonal rod for the shaft to really drive home the idea that Hexes Are Awesome.

Shovel. 11 gauge stainless steel scoop with tab and slot construction.

Shovel. 11 gauge stainless steel scoop with tab and slot construction.

And… the tongs. Challenging design, but worth it.

And… the tongs. Challenging design, but worth it.

With the tools designed, I realized they needed a place to live — one that complimented the CinderCone but was capable of standing on its own, too.

A “garage” to store the tools. The Hive!

A “garage” to store the tools. The Hive!

CinderCone: Making V2, Part 2. by Mark Leichliter

With the fire basin pretty much finished, time to tackle the upper section - the place where all the magic happens. These faces are where the cutouts reveal the fire through a pattern of flowing, distorted hexagons - giving CinderCone its unique look.

With the “belt line” brackets all welded together into a rigid ring, they can serve as a jig for aligning the patterned faces. I built a fancy fixture to hold adjacent faces while tacking their tops.

With the “belt line” brackets all welded together into a rigid ring, they can serve as a jig for aligning the patterned faces. I built a fancy fixture to hold adjacent faces while tacking their tops.

Bolting the bottoms and tacking the seams is a pretty quick, straightforward proposition.

Bolting the bottoms and tacking the seams is a pretty quick, straightforward proposition.

Stitch welding the seams - an inch of weld, skip 3 inches, then another inch of weld. Lowers the amount of heat applied while allowing a bit of flexible relief for the strain of the heating/cooling cycle.

Stitch welding the seams - an inch of weld, skip 3 inches, then another inch of weld. Lowers the amount of heat applied while allowing a bit of flexible relief for the strain of the heating/cooling cycle.

On to the hardest part fo the whole process: the “eyebrow” over the fire door. All the other parts are just welded together in their flat state; the is one needs to formed into a curve. Hydraulics to the rescue!

On to the hardest part fo the whole process: the “eyebrow” over the fire door. All the other parts are just welded together in their flat state; the is one needs to formed into a curve. Hydraulics to the rescue!

The Eyebrow. Attached.

The Eyebrow. Attached.

With that, the upper section is finished.

With that, the upper section is finished.

CinderCone: Making V2.0 by Mark Leichliter

Now that I’ve figured out how to correct the issues that presented themselves in V1, it’s time to implement the changes. That means generating new patterns for the laser and having the improved design cut. I also went with slightly thicker material — 11 gauge instead of 12 — to provide a touch more rigidity. Let the games begin!

The updated upper faces. Here you can see the threshold below the door, and the updated trio of fastener holes in the bottom of each face.

The updated upper faces. Here you can see the threshold below the door, and the updated trio of fastener holes in the bottom of each face.

Voila! The laser-cut metal in all its glory.

Voila! The laser-cut metal in all its glory.

The bottom plate and fire basin faces.

The bottom plate and fire basin faces.

The 3D model of the new & improved anchoring bracket…

The 3D model of the new & improved anchoring bracket…

… and its real-world counterpart.

… and its real-world counterpart.

To insure a proper fit, I bolt the brackets into the fire basin and tack them together while there. Here, you can see how the ring of brackets pins the grill in place.

To insure a proper fit, I bolt the brackets into the fire basin and tack them together while there. Here, you can see how the ring of brackets pins the grill in place.

Once tack welded, the brackets are removed, clamped securely flat, and the final welds added. Oh - about that work surface: I was massively frustrated with how my fixturing and clamping setup worked on the prototype, so I broke down and bought a fan…

Once tack welded, the brackets are removed, clamped securely flat, and the final welds added. Oh - about that work surface: I was massively frustrated with how my fixturing and clamping setup worked on the prototype, so I broke down and bought a fancy German fabrication table. I really only spend money on things that make making better.

That’s the first half of the assembly for version 2. I’m really pleased at how the design is working out, and the new welding table not only makes things easier, but insures that the quality of my parts is top notch.

CinderCone: Back to the Drawing Board. by Mark Leichliter

With lessons learned from the first burn trial-by-fire (literally), I went back into my model on the computer and started implementing improvements. Chief among these was a way to stabilize the grill and a better system for attaching the top section to the fire basin. I also wanted to add in an ash door and a way to stiffen up the feet (they had a bit of lateral deflection happening, albeit slight. Might as well fix it while I’m fixing, right?)

The biggest change was adding a “belt” that ran along the entire perimeter of the joint between top and bottom. This kills two birds: the belt pins the grill down to prevent warpage, and provides a super-beefy means of attaching top to bottom. You c…

The biggest change was adding a “belt” that ran along the entire perimeter of the joint between top and bottom. This kills two birds: the belt pins the grill down to prevent warpage, and provides a super-beefy means of attaching top to bottom. You can also see how I extended the bottom plate further out on the legs to stiffen them up.

Detail of one section of the “belt.” I used tab and slot construction to spare me the hassle of alignment, plus it adds strength. Note the hexagonal cutouts that receive the nuts. Magic.

Detail of one section of the “belt.” I used tab and slot construction to spare me the hassle of alignment, plus it adds strength. Note the hexagonal cutouts that receive the nuts. Magic.

The CinderCone’s “Belt.”

The CinderCone’s “Belt.”

The finished V2 design. I added a bit of a “threshold” under the door to allow for a full 360° of attachment, top to bottom.

The finished V2 design. I added a bit of a “threshold” under the door to allow for a full 360° of attachment, top to bottom.