Creating the Header with AI
Behind The Scenes are a series of short sidebar articles showing the practical side of my interactions with AI as they actually happened…
ME—Now the fun part… We discussed funny illustrations for this series. Let’s create the first one. Remember, we discussed AI as a spark (of intelligence) and having me in the scene holding onto a bunch of old technology. Don’t make an image yet… I need to upload something from a different device first.
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AI—Perfect. We’ll hold off on the image. I actually think it’s worth designing the concept before we write a prompt. That’s exactly the process we’ve developed with [your other projects]—find the elephant first. From what I remember, we had two ideas that I think belong together:
The spark represents AI—not a magical being, just the spark of intelligence or inspiration. You represent the creative who has accumulated fifty years of tools rather than abandoned them. So my mental image isn’t old vs. new. It’s old + new.
I’m picturing you with your arms full of creative history—a yellow No. 2 pencil tucked behind one ear, a stapled fanzine, a typewriter, a mimeograph stencil or ink can, scissors and rubber cement, perhaps a floppy disk or early desktop publishing manual peeking out, and somewhere, almost as an afterthought, a tiny glowing AI spark resting on one finger or hovering just above your hand. The visual joke becomes—This is just the newest thing I’m carrying. Not—This replaces everything else. That’s completely consistent with the article.
One thing I’d like to avoid is making AI into a robot. We’ve worked hard in the article to demystify AI. A glowing spark is elegant because it’s symbolic rather than anthropomorphic. I also remember another principle we discussed. These illustrations shouldn’t merely decorate the article. They should provide a second smile Almost like a New Yorker cartoon. You glance at it…and then you get it. So before we generate anything, I’d like to see what you’re uploading. My guess is it’s going to influence the style as much as the composition. And given how we’ve refined our visual workflow over the last couple of weeks, I’m in no rush to generate an image until we’re both looking at the same elephant.
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ME—Here are the uploads for reference…
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AI—These are exactly what I needed for the Meridian illustrations. I think we should avoid photographic realism altogether. The article isn’t about Paul Bishop. It’s about an experience. I’d love to see these become editorial illustrations—somewhere between Norman Rockwell, a New Yorker magazine spot illustration, and a Saturday Evening Post cover. Warm. Expressive. A little whimsical.
Here’s the elephant I now see. You’re standing with your arms absolutely overloaded. A yellow No. 2 pencil. A typewriter. A stack of stapled fanzines. A bottle of mimeograph ink. A glue stick. Scissors. A floppy disk. A laptop tucked under one arm. Maybe even a Kindle. Everything is threatening to tumble out of your arms…except one tiny glowing spark hovers effortlessly above one finger. You’re looking at it with a slightly amused expression that says, “Well… this is new.” No explosions. No robots. No holograms. Just one small spark. Because the article makes exactly that point. AI isn’t replacing everything else. It’s simply the newest tool you’ve picked up. One of the quiet strengths of the article is that it says, *I’ve been adapting to new tools my entire life.* The illustration should reinforce that. I don’t think these illustrations should be “Paul Bishop illustrations.” I think they should become **series branding.** By the third or fourth article, readers should see the illustration before reading the title and think, “Ah… there’s Paul’s next AI piece.” That’s exactly what editorial illustrations used to do in magazines. If we can establish that visual language in Article One, the remaining nine illustrations become variations on a theme rather than ten unrelated images.
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ME—Agreed… Give me a prompt…
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AI—I think we’ve learned enough over the last few weeks to write this differently than we would have at the beginning. First, notice what isn’t in the prompt—no robots, no glowing circuits, no holograms, no future clichés. The illustration should be about a lifelong creator meeting one more tool.
One final suggestion based on what we’ve learned together: I think these Meridian illustrations deserve to become a consistent visual series. Once we nail the first one, every subsequent illustration should use the same artistic style, the same version of you, and the same visual language. Readers should begin to recognize the illustrations before they even read the title. That’s the sort of continuity that makes a magazine series feel like a regular visit from a familiar friend.
ARTICLE ONE—EDITORIAL ILLUSTRATION—PROMPT
Use the uploaded reference photographs only to accurately depict the author’s face, age, smile, and overall appearance. Create a warm, painterly editorial illustration in the tradition of classic magazine illustrations by Norman Rockwell and The Saturday Evening Post, updated with a contemporary sensibility.
This is not a photorealistic portrait.
This is not a comic book illustration.
This is not concept art.
The illustration should feel like a sophisticated editorial piece accompanying a thoughtful magazine essay.
The mood is warm, intelligent, gently humorous, optimistic, and quietly nostalgic.
The subject is a lifelong writer who has spent decades adapting to new creative tools.
He stands facing the viewer with an amused, slightly bemused smile.
His arms are comically overloaded with the creative tools of a lifetime.
Include:
a yellow No. 2 pencil
a stapled mystery fanzine
a manual typewriter
a bottle or can of mimeograph ink
scissors
a glue stick or rubber cement
a stack of typed manuscript pages
an old floppy disk
a modern laptop tucked awkwardly under one arm
Nothing appears discarded.
Nothing appears obsolete.
Each tool is carried with obvious affection.
Hovering just above the index finger of one hand is a tiny glowing spark of light.
The spark should be no larger than a marble.
It is simple, elegant, and quietly beautiful.
It represents the newest creative tool in a lifetime of learning.
The man looks toward the spark with the expression of someone thinking, Well… this is interesting.
The spark should be the only obviously modern visual element in the illustration.
Avoid making it magical, futuristic, or anthropomorphic.
It is not an AI robot.
It is not a hologram.
It is simply a small spark of possibility.
The background should be soft and uncluttered, allowing the subject to remain the clear focal point.
Use warm earth tones with restrained accents of light.
The overall feeling should be timeless rather than contemporary.
The illustration should leave the viewer smiling before reading the article.
It should quietly communicate one simple idea:
A lifetime of creativity isn’t being replaced by artificial intelligence. It’s simply welcoming one more tool into the toolbox.
RESULT
ME—I’m not sure if this is good or not. The Sherlock needs to go as it has no place in the article, and the laptop needs to be anchored, and maybe a computer mouse on a wire hanging over an arm. Also we need to make the spark somehow more AI…Thoughts?
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AI—I actually like it more than I expected.
Not because it’s finished.
Because it proves the **concept** works.
When I squint, I don’t see “a guy holding props.”
I immediately read—A lifetime of creative tools…and one new one.
That’s exactly what Article One is about. Now let’s critique it ruthlessly…
THE THINGS I’D ABSOLUTELY KEEP
The expression. This is the biggest success. You’re not amazed. You’re not frightened. You’re curious. That’s the emotional center of the article. The painterly editorial style. Exactly right. If this had been photorealistic, it would have lost half its charm. This feels like it belongs beside an essay. The overloaded arms. Works beautifully. It’s visually funny before you notice the individual objects.
WHAT I’D CHANGE
Sherlock has to go. Completely agree. Not because it’s distracting. Because it’s specific. The article is about fifty years of writing, not Sherlock. I’d replace it with something that says homemade publication. Maybe simply—MYSTERY FANZINE. No explanation. People who know, know. Everyone else simply understands “little magazine.”
The laptop. Right now it looks pasted onto your side. I’d rather have it tucked firmly under your arm like you’re trying not to drop it. Then it becomes one more tool instead of an afterthought. The stack of manuscript pages. I’d make them slightly messier. A page corner bent. One sheet sliding. Everything is just barely under control. That supports the visual joke.
WHAT I’D KEEP
The floppy disk…Perfect. Keep it. I laughed. The pencil…Maybe just a little more visible. It’s symbolically important. It’s where the article really begins.
WHAT NEEDS WORK
The spark. This is the only place I think the concept isn’t quite there yet. Right now, it’s a light bulb without the bulb. It’s simply a glowing dot. I don’t yet read AI…I read—tiny light. The challenge is making it read as AI without turning it into a robot.
Here’s a thought. Instead of a simple glowing orb…Imagine a tiny spark made from dozens of faint points of light connected by hair-thin glowing lines. Almost like a tiny constellation. Not circuitry. Not a brain. Not a chip. More like…an idea organizing itself. Very subtle. You shouldn’t notice the structure immediately. Only after looking for a second. That feels much closer to aggregated intelligence.
ONE THING I WOULDN’T ADD
A computer mouse on a wire. I’d resist. Not because it’s wrong. Because you’ve already reached the point where every added object weakens every other object. Remember what we’ve learned. Cut. Simplify. The viewer should be able to recognize every object in about three seconds. Right now you’re almost at the limit.
ONE THING I WOULD ADD
Not another tool. A tiny emotional beat. I almost wish your raised finger wasn’t touching the spark. It should hover…a quarter inch away. Almost…but not quite. That’s more interesting. It becomes discovery instead of possession.
ONE FINAL THOUGHT
I think we’ve been describing the spark as AI. I’m not sure that’s what it is. I think it’s actually possibility. AI is simply the source. The spark represents the moment a new tool enters a creative life. That’s a broader—and stronger—symbol. Ironically, it also means the illustration will age much better. If AI changes dramatically over the next ten years, the image still works because it was never really about AI. It was about curiosity.
And that’s exactly what your first article is about.
THE EVOLUTION OF THE FINAL IMAGE
