The craftsman takes a knife and painstakingly carves out the likeness of an owl from a block of driftwood he found on the beach.

A woman knits her grandchildren gloves and a scarf for the coming winter.

An artist sits on the beach for hours to paint the waves.

The composer dedicates months at a time to writing the different parts for the orchestra.

Meanwhile, there is a machine, or software, somewhere, that can make, effortlessly, a decent replication, if not the exact likeness, of all those creations.

And yet many of us, myself included, will continue to create work, though not necessarily artistic masterpieces, that still require a certain amount of old fashioned craft and experience. They take time and energy to make. They probably contain flaws.

Why would we ever choose this hard and iimperfect way?

It’s not because we reject the possibilities that the new technology offers. We recognise it’s ability to contribute to wonderful new forms of creativity.

But at the same time, we ourselves aren’t machines. Not just yet anyway. Sometimes it is just about The Simple Pleasure to be found in the making.