I finally wrote down my key-and-lock theory of art

Thirty years of turning keys on other people made me notice that every lock is just a question about who gets in. Been wrestling with that dream where I'm holding a ring of keys that fit nothing, and it turned into an essay about what AI art asks of us — not whether the hand is real, but whether anyone is waiting on the other side of the door. Weird thing is, the writing felt like the first time I've used the old job for something other than a story at parties.