Workflow Hub

Turn scattered creative preferences into four living style books THE PROBLEM My taste was scattered across old conversations, clothing lists, search terms, saved images, handmade collages and experiments transforming my childhood drawings with AI. I wanted something I could use to make new work, rather than another archive of everything I had ever mentioned. A generic label like “colourful and whimsical” was not enough. My preferences also change with the application: a collage, an outfit, a room and a digital course do not need the same treatment. THE WORKFLOW 1. Bring together different kinds of source material. I used an earlier style conversation, a digital design style document, a list of search terms, photos of my own collages and the corrections I had made during image-generation experiments. Ask AI to read source texts fully, and distinguish your statements from suggestions made by an earlier assistant. 2. Analyse patterns, then correct the interpretation. The AI proposed connections involving colour, texture, shape, atmosphere, vintage objects and visual storytelling. I refined these through concrete examples. For instance, liking stilettos and being able to wear them comfortably are separate facts. Liking geometric structures does not mean I want triangular wallpaper. A technically imperfect image can still work when it preserves the atmosphere I intended. 3. Treat corrections as part of the research. “Too childish” may mean wrong for this drawing’s intended audience, rather than a universal dislike. A saved image may be intriguing without being something I want to keep encountering. An entire family of similar images may appeal to me without needing to rank every member. One especially useful correction: patterns visible in my collages do not prove I consciously planned them. I sort clippings into categories and sometimes colour groups; the collage itself develops while I make it. 4. Include my own categories. My clipping categories include texture, image, black-and-white, colour, background, small meaningful items, comics and words. “Colour” means a clipping kept mainly for its colour, not simply any colour photograph. “Texture” includes both natural surfaces and designed patterns. These definitions provided better starting points than generic categories imposed by the AI. Digital design and graphics also received a full category of their own, rather than being treated as an exception to my taste elsewhere. 5. Create four distinct outputs. • Style Book: precise preferences, boundaries, exceptions and provisional design principles. • Visual Atlas: image families connected across subjects, with actual examples and explanations of what might link them. • Prompt Bible: modular language for colour, material, light, composition, figures and atmosphere, plus reusable recipes and lessons from corrections. • Curatorial Map: connections between interests such as vintage objects, memory, surfaces, small living worlds, language and digital design. 6. Keep the books open to revision. Separate confirmed preferences, observations and hypotheses. When new material arrives, ask what it confirms, refines or contradicts. Add what changes the understanding instead of documenting every conversation. WHAT THIS PRODUCED Four separate first-draft HTML books, including a visual atlas with 14 photographs of my collages. They bring clothing, interiors, fragrance, digital design and creative work into the same research project while preserving their different requirements. WHY IT HELPED The process made my corrections useful. Instead of asking AI to define my taste once, I could respond to concrete interpretations until the descriptions became more accurate. The books support future making without prescribing how I must create. STARTER PROMPT “Use these sources to draft four separate living documents: a personal Style Book, a Visual Atlas, a modular Prompt Bible and a Curatorial Map of Fascinations. Read the source texts fully and distinguish my own statements from earlier AI suggestions. Find recurring patterns, exceptions and unexpected connections. Keep preferences specific to their application, including clothing, interiors, digital design and graphics. Treat my corrections as evidence. Label observations and hypotheses clearly, and do not invent conscious intentions behind intuitive work. Use supplied images in the atlas where available. Build useful first drafts rather than a complete archive, and translate each finding differently for each document’s purpose.”

I use this workflow when I want fresh creative input for my visual work and want to expand my inspiration library in Eagle without collapsing into randomness. The starting point is not a generic prompt like “show me inspiring artists.” I give the AI examples of images, artists, materials, traditions, or visual details that already catch my attention. The AI first looks for patterns in what I respond to: color, material, composition, atmosphere, craft techniques, cultural traditions, natural structures, architectural forms, and more. From there, we branch outward. I explore adjacent references across disciplines, cultures, periods, and materials rather than looking only for visually similar work. I react freely to the suggestions: “This texture, yes.” “This artist, no.” “More of that construction method.” “Less decorative.” “Stranger.” “Older.” “Softer.” Those reactions steer the next round of research. One research session, for example, moved through Indian stepwells; Ajrakh and Bandhani textiles from Gujarat and Kutch; Tibetan/Ladakhi painted textiles; Miao baby carriers; Dong wooden bridges; art from Papua; Russian lubok prints; and even 11th-century goldworking in Panama. These references do not belong to one tidy category, period, or geography. That is precisely the point. The session was driven by visual responses and emerging connections involving color, surface, construction, ornament, repetition, symbolism, material, and technique. Each discovery created a new branch to follow. AI made it possible to move laterally across disciplines, cultures, and centuries without losing the thread of what was visually interesting to me. I then selected only the references that genuinely sparked something and added those to Eagle. The result is not just a collection of “similar images,” but a deliberately expanded visual vocabulary. The human remains the curator. AI expands the search radius; taste decides what enters the library. Sometimes there is no initial research question at all. A joke, misheard word, object, memory, or accidental phrase becomes the seed. The value is in allowing associative drift to continue long enough for a real curiosity trail to emerge. > The research does not always begin with a topic. Sometimes the topic is discovered during the wandering. Step-by-step: 1. I start with a few visual references I genuinely like. 2. I ask AI to identify recurring visual qualities and possible connections. 3. I explore adjacent references across disciplines, cultures, periods, and materials rather than searching only for visually similar work. 4. I react freely to the suggestions, noting what I want more or less of, such as a particular texture, artist, construction method, decorative quality, age, or atmosphere. 5. I let those reactions steer the next round of research. 6. I open the references and collect only the images that actually trigger something. 7. I save those images in Eagle as a curated visual library rather than an indiscriminate image dump. 8. I add useful context through folders, collections, tags, or notes so the references can resurface later.