The machine can write.
It can paint, imitate, sing.
It can remix our ideas, echo our references, even dream in fragments.
And in the right hands, it can even collaborate.
But it still can’t decide what truly matters.
It doesn’t know what to protect or what to transform.
That part is still up to us.
The more machines mimic us, the more sacred the human voice becomes.
We’re living through the most radical creative shift of our generation. Not because machines are replacing us, but because they’ve learned to reflect us so convincingly that we’re being asked to remember what can’t be copied.
It’s not just about what the machine can produce.
It’s about what still feels human once it’s made.
For me, that question is personal.
I was never a math or science nerd. Worse, I was the Asian kid who brought home solid B’s in those subjects (a quiet scandal where I grew up!), and not for lack of effort. But I lit up in other sanctuaries. Writing stories with my friends, learning every detail of Final Cut Pro and After Effects, making movies we had no business making, hosting shows at our local radio and TV station, finding belonging in the tangle of cables and the thrill of delivering ad-lib news. Hamilton’s “Non-Stop” pretty much nailed the vibe. I found power in my voice. I loved systems of meaning, not systems of logic. And after enough mediocrity in the traditional academic sense, I decided that must mean I wasn’t capable of being “technical.”
But even yet, there was a hum of scientific awe simmering beneath the surface.
I stayed up until 3 a.m. splicing sound and footage together long before I understood what “pipeline” or “workflow” meant. I felt flickers of wonder along the way, for how a radio board was engineered, how FCC waves carried sound, the science behind analog switchers and broadcast systems, and the “how?” behind every magical Jurassic Park or Star Wars scene that captured my childhood. But I quickly tuned that wonder down. Because to admit I was curious about something I didn’t think I was “good at” felt like betraying the part of me that was good at something else, the part that loved story, language, and meaning, and had come to believe that creativity and science stood on opposite sides of a line that shouldn’t be crossed.
It’s taken more than 15 years to rewire that belief.
Working at the intersection of creativity and technology for the last decade gave me a purposeful, beautiful compass for understanding science through metaphor, language, and wonder. From the labs at NYU Film School to Bollywood sets to many years leading product innovation research for the Netflix Studio, I’ve spent my career at the seam between imagination and infrastructure. In that journey, I’ve learned firsthand that creativity isn’t at odds with technical fluency. In fact, they are the doorway into each other. The more I spoke with hundreds of artists and technologists from all walks of life and all over the world, the more that belief crystallized. This wasn’t just my story, it was a shared one.
At my core, I still am and always will be a creative first. But something real has shifted. Where only stories once lit the fuse, now systems do too. Technology unlocks in me the same wild possibility that only art once did. What once felt like separate languages — intuition and logic, expression and engineering — are beginning to rhyme. And when they do, something new becomes possible.
For a long time, these thoughts lived quietly, scattered across notebooks and post-its in my half-legible handwriting and tucked in deep corners of my mind. Ideas that didn’t yet know where, or if, they belonged. This past year, as generative AI reshaped the creative world at full throttle, I carried them without knowing what they were building toward.
But now feels like the moment to bring them into the light. To test them in the open. To see if they resonate with anyone else navigating this strange, electric frontier. To translate between the maker and the machine. Because it matters more now than ever before.
Voice in the Age of the Machine is a field guide for makers of the future.
For creatives navigating generative AI not as a threat, but as a set of powerful new creator’s tools. Instruments that need to be shaped, interpreted, questioned, and reimagined. Not with panic. Not with blind optimism. But with clarity, language, and a kind of creative firewall — a way to hold our shape inside the noise.
This isn’t a hype train. It’s not a doomsday warning either. It’s a lens. A way to decode what’s shifting beneath the interfaces and beyond the clickbait. Because the questions in front of us are no longer just technical ones. They’re creative ones. Structural ones. Spiritual ones.
What do we protect?
What do we reimagine?
What do we build in partnership with the machine, and what stays fully ours?
This newsletter is how I wrestle with those questions, through frameworks, language, and stories that help us stay awake to what’s actually shifting underneath the tools.
If you’ve ever opened a generative tool and felt awe and discomfort in the same breath, this is for you. If you’ve ever felt like you had to choose between art or technicality, intuition or systems, craft or code, this is for you. If you believe your voice matters more than ever in a machine-shaped world, this is definitely for you.
This newsletter follows a weekly rhythm. I’ll alternate essays, interviews, and provocations. It’s designed to stir, not flood. You’ll see:
🎙️ Profiles of artists co-creating with AI to expand- not replace- their voice
🧠 Metaphors that help decode how generative systems think, remember, and respond
💡 Prompts and practices to sharpen, protect, and evolve your creative voice
🔍 Insights into who owns what, who gets paid, and how creative power is shifting
We’ll begin next week with a first glimpse into The Creative Atlas of the Machine, a gradual unspooling of metaphors I’ve coined that make AI systems emotionally legible and creatively usable. Then we’ll go deeper: behind the scenes of workflows, the ethics of authorship, and the shifting ownership of creative power.
The machine is getting louder.
That means the voice must get clearer.
The field guide begins now.
—Siddhi
If this stirred something in you, subscribe below. And share it with someone whose voice matters in this new chapter of human creativity.
P.S. I haven’t been on Twitter/X in years, but I’m back to build this community.
Come follow @voiceintheage, reply with your thoughts, and help shape this as we go. This isn’t a solo broadcast. It’s a conversation. And you’re part of it.
Glad you have kicked this off - this is a much needed space to have meaningful conversation about AI and Creativity and Creatives.
I loved this. And I love your writing style, Siddhi. Packed full of insights that read like lyrics to a song. A beautiful blend of the very thing you stand for - art + science. Keep on expressing my friend!