ChatGPT

 I’ve written something like 350 plus poems and an assortment of prose, and made thousands of sketches and paintings. Some days, mornings usually, while attempting to put my day together I browse some of my files for inspiration. This morning I came upon some writing and after reading it thought to myself, "who wrote this”, thinking that it couldn’t have been me as it appears to be quite good, and somewhat interesting. So, I decided to ask ChatGPT in the hopes of finding the author. Chat wasn’t able, so I came to the conclusion that, I must have written the piece sometime ago.

It is said that should we be lucky enough to survive into old age,

that we shall have travelled full circle.

I hold in my hands an album of family photographs. There are many photographs with quite common themes, children in their infancy, children at various stages of growing up, graduations and marriages. There are descriptions on the backs of the photographs. There are several photographs of an infant that catch my attention. He appears smiling and happy. His eyes, however, reveal no emotion for the child in the photograph knows nothing of his future. That his tummy is full, that he’s warm, and that he is loved is all that’s important. Another photograph taken a few years later is one of those photographs that used to be taken of school children who were perhaps six, or seven, years of age. In this photograph the child appears nervous, but is smiling. No doubt he’s been encouraged to smile by the  photographer. He’s aware, but he’s still not really aware as his future has yet to be determined. Years later as a teenager he’s depicted as confident, cocksure of himself, yet naive. Wedding photographs of the boy matured into a man, much like those taken at the launching of a ship, herald the beginning of a voyage with every hope for fair weather. There are many photographs taken throughout the voyage. Some reveal happy times while others depict proud moments, but like a ship that has endured the forces of nature the man in the photographs is beginning to appear weathered, and tired, and worn. The photographs reveal that he’s aware, yet he no longer appears really aware as his future is no longer certain. His world, a world that he helped to change, is no longer his world but the world of another generation. He smiles, but you can see that he’s nervous, confused, and just a bit angry. There’s a final photograph of the man celebrating a birthday. He’s much, older. His smile says that he’s happy, but his eyes are on another world. That his tummy is full, that he’s warm and that he is loved is all that’s important.

It got me to thinking as to whether ChatGPT retained a memory of our input, and to my surprise (actually, I wasn’t too surprised) I learned that it does (for learning purposes), with the exception of copyrighted material. So, just for the heck of it I asked Chat about material that I have floating around out there, and was surprised that a lot can be found, and that f I were somehow able to get my books in PDF form on some sites on the internet where copyright doesn’t exist, or even up on my blogs, then its all fair game. Not that I care as it would be comforting to believe as I fly to somewhere, somewhere, that my words will survive long after I reach my destination. On the otherhand, for those of us not wishing to share our thoughts with the present, and future world, we should exercise a bit of caution.