Creator Stories

Sara Shakeel started by putting crystals on a lipstick with a stylus and a phone app. Six years later she had 80 embroiderers in Pakistan sewing 3.9 million of them onto planets.

Gorgon Soup posts a new SECTOR 9 short almost every week, and unlike most AI filmmakers, they list the entire stack that made it right there in the footer of their own site.

YACHT converted their entire back catalog into MIDI, fed it to a machine learning model, and spent three years assembling songs out of what came back. The album still sounds like YACHT.

Jonas Peterson spent twenty-five years photographing real people before he started making portraits of people who don't exist. He describes the AI work as directing, says the software is wrong most of the time, and refuses to tell anyone which software it is.

Delphi Motion Pictures posts trailers for films that don't exist. The faces hold from shot to shot, and the worlds have factions with names.

CJ Carr and Zack Zukowski fed raw death metal audio to a neural network, put the output on a livestream, and left it running. Most of their models failed. They published the failures too.

Lukas Nowacki posts short AI films under the handle surreailist. He calls them psychological descents, and they look like water-damaged folk horror somebody found in a Polish attic.

Holly Herndon spent six months getting boring results out of a neural network she built in her studio. Then she trained one on her own voice and gave it away to strangers.

grace_green_space has been putting the same black-bobbed girl into a new impossible situation for years — tightropes, vending machines, a shadow on a leash. She added AI to a nine-year digital painting practice in 2025 and hasn't explained a thing about how.

agris_red posts a daily dispatch from a numbered industrial wasteland — Sector 4, Sector 9, Sector 12 — and the account reads like a shift log kept by somebody who actually works there.

Ozavry has posted more than ninety numbered chapters of one dark-fantasy world, all of it in the same bruised magenta and blue. Nobody has written down how it's made.

PJ Ace, Kelly Boesch, Neural Viz and Mr Relative have all ended up making films with the same video model — and each one came to it through a different app they were already using. Nobody went looking for Seedance.

Kavan the Kid photographs himself in masks he owns before a single frame gets generated. Ten years of music videos on small budgets taught him where AI actually fits.

Niceaunties has been covered everywhere as a culture story. Almost nobody has written down how she actually builds the Auntieverse — one still image at a time, 25 to 30 prompts deep.

Micah Alhadeff builds 3D bodies that come apart into shards and neon, teaches game engines at a university, and has shown work across 1,000 Belgian billboards.

YZA Voku makes black-and-white AI short films that win Runway's Gen:48, and runs an Andalucía studio whose Works page lists The Weeknd and The Sphere.

GLOOMSTOMPER is the same anonymous artist as Voidstomper, working the same broken-AI aesthetic toward something with a plot — dark fantasy, dialogue, and a world that carries over between films.

Gossip Goblin gave away a 28-minute science fiction film on July 22, the same day the trades reported his feature is going to theaters in October.

GEDDYRUXPIN's AI short films look like water-damaged 1963 television — morphing faces, alien henchmen in business suits, and no name attached to any of it.

Disney Jr's first YouTube preschool series appeared on July 15 with no press release. It was co-developed with Animaj — the studio that trained animation models on 300,000 Pocoyo sketches and publishes its pipeline like an engineering blog.

People keep typing the same question into search: how does this creator actually make their videos? We've been asking them directly. Here's what five of the processes really look like — scripts, storyboards, hundreds of discarded generations, and a lot of editing.

The Frog Mage has built a dark fantasy world across Instagram, TikTok, and Spotify — memes, official music videos, and a Runway AI partnership.

Caspar Jade is the AI alias of a Berlin photographer who spent 16 years shooting magazine covers. For 15 months his project The Unreal People posted a portrait of a fictional person every day, each with a life story — 471 people who never existed.

Tropland Universe is a digital animal kingdom — photoreal lions and tigers doing impossible things, every caption disclosing the AI and promising no animal was caged, trained, or harmed. It started as a children's book about a juice bar in 2013.

PJ Ace made the AI ad that ran during the NBA Finals for about $2,000 in three days — then published the entire workflow. Fifteen years of directing, 300-400 Veo generations, and a rule about never asking Gemini for more than 5 prompts at a time.