Look Highward is an AI-native artist who began exploring visual art in early 2020 during the first COVID lockdown. With a background in philosophy and a long-standing interest in technology, Look transitioned from writing and conceptual work to creating intricate digital art using AI and machine learning.
His journey into AI art began with experimenting on text-to-image scripts, which eventually led to his first on-chain works in 2021. As an early adopter of NFTs and a passionate collector, Look Highward has been an active figure in the AI art community, pushing the boundaries of how machine learning can be used to express human narratives and emotions.
In this interview, Look Highward opens up about his creative practice, offering insights into how he crafts complex AI artworks. He discusses the importance of experimentation in his prompting technique, the influence of gaming and surrealist art on his work, and his vision for decentralized, interactive art experiences.
BW: Could you start by telling me a little about yourself and your journey as an artist?
LH: Sure. One interesting thing about my journey is that I’m both digitally and AI native. I didn’t create any significant visual artwork until I discovered AI and machine learning in early 2020. During the first COVID lockdown in the UK, I had time to explore AI, using text-to-image scripts to visualize poems.
Those experiments led to my first on-chain works, but I didn’t mint them until late 2021. Before that, I’d been holding ETH and reading about decentralized finance, missing both DeFi and NFT summers. When I finally started minting, I became obsessed with AI art and began collecting, mainly from other AI artists. I got involved with Brain Drops and made my first big secondary purchase—a Claire Silver piece for three ETH, which was a significant moment for me. I thought it was a good way to show commitment to the space.
BW: Is poetry still part of your text-to-image practice?
LH: Definitely. I think of prompts as poems. My prompts tend to be long—sometimes a couple hundred words—because I like using poetic expressions to break my own intentions. I often include things in prompts that don’t have a fixed visual meaning to see how the AI interprets them. It’s a call-and-response process for me: poetry, visual curation, and then more poetry.
BW: AI is a hot topic, with debates escalating as the technology improves. Why do you think it’s a necessary medium for creating?
LH: I’m not sure any medium is necessary, but once a medium exists, it makes sense to explore its artistic potential. At Digital Art Day, Anya from Operator said, “An artist should not chase the tech,” and I agree. The pace of tech is overwhelming, and artists shouldn’t feel pressured to keep up with it.
AI is worth exploring because it transforms how we create. For the first time, we can construct ideas and meanings outside of our own minds. That’s what makes it revolutionary. It’s challenging for many, but we now have a process we can collaborate with, even though AI doesn’t have its own experience or consciousness. It can still generate meanings that relate to human data in ways we might not have imagined.
BW: I recently spoke with Ivona Tau about how AI allows for connections that humans, with all our context, might never make. It’s like accessing superpowered naivety.
LH: That’s an interesting point. I try to do that in my life too, constantly resetting my expectations and learning—kind of a Zen “unlearning.” AI helps with that by letting you throw something out there and see what comes back. It’s a balance between embracing the chaos and maintaining some human intention, but it evolves as you go.
BW: Can you give me any more specifics around your unlearning practice? How formalized is it? Is there anything you’d recommend to help other artists empty their minds to create?
LH: A lot of it comes from my upbringing. My parents were into Eastern philosophies, so I was exposed to that early on. I had some key experiences in my youth, including a few psychedelic ones, but I don’t recommend that to everyone—it’s personal.
The best advice is simple: “Be here now.” It’s about observing your thoughts and realizing you’re on the train of thought, but not always in control of it. Stepping back, even with something as simple as conscious breathing, helps. Just focusing on your breath for 20 seconds can shift your perspective, reminding you that you’re not only defined by the structures you’ve built in your mind.
BW: Can you tell me the story behind the pieces you made for Digital Art Day in Málaga and the generative wine charity sale?
LH: Sure. This collection, Catedrales Irreals (Unreal Cathedrals), is my second on-chain collection. It builds on my first, Possibility Spaces, both technically and thematically.
These are high-definition images, about 7000 by 11,000 pixels, so you can zoom in deeply. They’re made through an upscaling process, starting with a small image and iterating with new prompts and settings to double the size while retaining part of the original and adding new layers.
I also experimented more with prompts in this collection, using wildcards for elements like color palettes and sacred mathematics. I researched color palettes, grouped them, and let the prompt randomly select one. This gave me more control over the output without fully predetermining it.
The collection’s theme revolves around cathedrals and numinous experiences. Some pieces depict cathedrals, while others focus on environments that evoke a sense of altered states. There are even some giant figures that weren’t planned but resonated, so I included them.
BW: What’s the curation process for this series like?
LH: I start with a small piece, about a tenth of the final size, and experiment with different upscalers and settings. I try different combinations—maybe 15 samplers and various steps—then I choose what resonates. There’s no strict criteria, just instinct.
For this project, I generated thousands of images, narrowed them down, and refined them through multiple iterations. There was a time constraint, so the pieces are a bit smaller than my previous collection, but the process is still intensive, with lots of tweaking along the way.
BW: Let’s talk about Possibility Spaces. Can you tell me about that series?
LH: This was my first still-image work. Before that, I was doing video pieces. It came from a project I’m still working on with a sculptor who creates massive statues. I was making AI collages to go inside these hollowed forms, which led me to experiment with workflows that could create large, detailed images.
The first realms were heavily influenced by Hieronymus Bosch—surreal, detailed, and human. I love glitch art because it disrupts our expectations, and AI’s “glitches” help reinterpret familiar forms. People talk about AI getting closer to perfection, but I think the glitches are what make it interesting. They’re part of how AI reinterprets humanity.
BW: You mentioned Bosch, but I also thought of Pieter Bruegel the Elder, who’s known for embedding lots of storylines into his work. Did you try to do that, or was it more organic?
LH: I didn’t think of Bruegel specifically—there are gaps in my art history—but narrative is important to this collection, especially since I often use poems as prompts. The collection is a retelling of the human story, though there are a few sci-fi elements, like spaceships.
The alien elements didn’t resonate with me as much as the shopping malls, where you have these natural groupings of people, but when you zoom in, strange things are happening. It’s that mix of the familiar and the unfamiliar that I find most interesting.
BW: I noticed that some of your pieces are more abstract, while others have clear, almost illustrated human figures. What was your thinking as you moved between these extremes?
LH: It was open-ended, but I was always exploring the human story in some form. Some realms are more abstract, but they’re all tied to human meaning. As the project progressed, I refined my approach and found ways to get more detailed faces, but the core prompts didn’t change much.
I also prompt with a mix of artist names—never just one or two, but more like 20. That layering of influences, along with references to sci-fi or even fictional characters, plays a big role in shaping the style of each realm.
BW: What else can you share about your prompting process?
LH: I recommend experimenting widely and varying prompt lengths. Working locally gives you more control. You can run experiments with different steps, change variables, and see what works. I don’t try to control things too tightly, but you can if you want. Try things where you don’t know the outcome—abstract or unexpected prompts. Sometimes, we get stuck repeating what we’ve done before, so getting outside your head can help.
BW: This might be my favorite piece. It’s incredibly detailed and reminds me of the Sgt. Pepper cover. What’s going on in this series?
LH: This is from my Film Noir realm. It has some of the most clearly defined faces and poses. I was inspired by the period of film noir, exploring the idea of a murder mystery. What’s funny is that almost everyone is looking suspiciously at the camera, which adds to the vibe. I aimed to capture the early film spirit, not quite the dawn of cinema, but close. People often compare AI’s impact to that of photography on painting, and while there are limits to that comparison, it did influence this piece.
BW: This last piece seems like a departure in style with its isometric view. What inspired that?
LH: Yeah, it’s a different angle. Isometric views usually feel more ordered, so I was pushing the limits. I’ve always loved gaming, and this view is familiar from games. I think the gaming influence played a role. This piece is part of a series that includes isometric offices and art galleries. There was a push and pull between mundane, human realms—like shopping malls—and more imaginative, divine realms, like the astral plane. This piece sits somewhere in the middle.
BW: Can you walk me through your daily workflow?
LH: My workflow isn’t daily. I wish I could practice full-time, but I have kids, so I often work late at night. I have a projector for detailed work, and I also have a mini office with a big, ultra-wide screen. For the Cathedrals series, I rotated the screen 90 degrees, so it’s like a giant phone—great for both Twitter and the cathedrals!
I use Visions of Chaos, which is fantastic free software for PC. It’s not open-source, but it has tons of scripts for everything from text-to-image to video. It’s a bit of a hassle to set up, but once it’s running, it’s amazing. I also use Auto 1111 for most of my work. There are many versions, but I use Stability Diffusion GUI. A good setup costs a few thousand pounds, but it gives you so much more control.
BW: Do you have any wildly ambitious, unrealized projects?
LH: I have too many! I buy a domain every time I get an idea I’m not ready to execute, so I’ve got about 20 domains sitting on the shelf.
For now, I’m planning to focus less on NFT collections and more on experiences—interactive and immersive art, and collaborative decentralized systems. I want to create proof-of-concept projects that people can use, share, or contribute to, without needing to manage a team.
One idea I’m exploring is a system where you can visualize the Earth. You’d click on a location, and the system would generate AI-driven ideas, content, or images related to your prompt and the place. People could add their own layers or lenses on top. That’s the kind of interactive experience I’d like to build.
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