Something No One Has Done Before
I saw in someone’s Instagram stories recently a reminder that the movie Garden State had been released on that date 21 years earlier. There was an image included of the scene where Zach Braff’s character is standing camouflaged in a shirt made from the same pattern as the wallpaper behind him, and it triggered a memory in my mind. There’s a scene when he’s in Natalie Portman’s character’s room, and she feels awkward and does a little dance and makes some random noises. She explains that it’s something she does when she feels completely unoriginal. She makes a noise or does something “that no one has ever done before” and then she can feel unique again, even if only for a second.
That little moment, silly as it is, has always stuck with me somewhere deep in the nether reaches of my brain. It’s not always about showing off talent or even being good at something. It’s about breaking free of the script. Doing something that only you could do, at least in that exact way, in that exact moment. It’s about breaking out of the everyday patterns that make us feel stuck. It’s about remembering we have the ability to create something new.
That scene came to mind while I was working with AI this week. Everyone has access to these tools now: image generators, writing assistants, music programs, the list goes on seemingly indefinitely. But the real trick isn’t just in using them. It’s in finding ways to use them that are yours alone. And that challenge has existed as long as humans have used tools to express their creativity.
Think about it like a piano. Millions of people can sit down and play the same notes. But only one person can sit down and play them the way you would. The same is true with AI. The technology is open to all of us, but how we twist it, remix it, and layer our own ideas onto it, that’s what makes it original.
The danger is treating AI like a shortcut. If you only ask it for the easy answer, you’ll get the same results as everyone else. But if you push it, test it, and mix it with your own experiences, it becomes something no one else can make.
For me, that means pulling old ideas off the shelf, ones I thought I didn’t have the time or skill to bring into the world. With AI, I can play with them again, shape them into something new. Not perfect, not polished. Just alive.
Maybe that’s the real lesson from Garden State: when you feel stuck or unoriginal, the answer isn’t to wait for the perfect idea. It’s to step into your own infinite abyss, make a sound, try something odd and see where it takes you.