Letter from the Founder
The world is drowning and the world is burning. By 2050, up to 200 million people could be displaced by climate change. Half of the world’s coral reefs have died in the last 30 years. By mid-century, as many as 30 to 50 percent of the total species found on Earth now will be gone because our extinction rate is currently 1,000 times the natural rate.
As we leave deadly marks on the only place in the universe we know humans can actually survive, we are nonetheless finding tools to help reverse the damage, but we are using the same tools to erase our humanity.
Identities and careers that used to go by names like Writer, Artist, or Creative now go by job titles like AI-Prompt Generator or AI-Humanizer. Art used to be “humanized” by default.
Still, AI models enhance the efficiency of carbon capture processes and improve the prediction of renewable energy sources. They leverage statistics on consumer behavior to promote sustainable practices and analyze data from natural disasters to coordinate effective response efforts.
There is no question AI can help us develop the science we need to save our planet from ourselves. But what about art? Can this technology help us develop that too? Do we need to “save” ourselves from the drive to create and explore and wonder?
Even though many of us—maybe most of us—would say no, since the advent of AI, thousands of human artists risk losing their livelihoods with the click of a mouse. The technology is making it close to impossible to make a living as an artist, but it’s always been difficult.
Outside of a few big names, most of us struggle to sell through traditional art world channels. Galleries are gatekeepers with ever-changing admissions requirements the vast majority of artists cannot meet. Many of them fall prey to the comparison game, concluding that their work just isn’t good enough. Some of us cope with the rejection by abandoning the profession. The rest of us stay because making art is the only life we know, or the only way to stay sane. In my case, literally. Depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation have been my dark companions for as long as I’ve been an artist, and meds help, but not the way the creative process does.
I don’t think anyone can explain why any better than the Welsh rap genius Ren does in his viral hit, “Hi Ren,” a musical manifestation of both his mental illness and its cure: what he calls an “eternal dance that separates human beings from angels, from demons, from gods.”
Chrysalys is my own eternal dance. My own treatment plan. My scream into the void. Except now, it’s not a void. It’s a community. And it’s not a scream. It’s just an invitation.
Come on in. It’s hot out there.
People in the business world tell me it’s ridiculous to give away ten percent of profits to fight the climate crisis. They say behavior like that is reckless. But I’m tired of fighting with my dark, frenetic energy. Instead, I’m embracing it, handing it the reigns, giving it a name. And spelling it weird. Not just to fuck with autocorrect, but because it’s who I really am.
Unhyngd
Chrysalys CEO & Founder