Early in my consulting journey, I used a stock image in a blog post to illustrate a leadership idea. It was educational, not commercial. Still, I received a formal copyright inquiry from a licensing firm representing a major media organization.
The issue was resolved under fair use. But the experience lingered.
Not because I had done something “wrong,” but because it forced a deeper reflection about practice.
As someone who teaches ethics, narrative intelligence, and clarity, I found myself asking uncomfortable but important questions:
Was I modeling the future I wanted my clients to operate in?
Was I borrowing visual meaning I didn’t fully control?
Could I tell stories visually without outsourcing the frame?
That moment shifted how I think about imagery in consulting.
Storytelling Isn’t Just About Words
At MyelSyn, we talk often about narrative intelligence—the ability to shape meaning with intention, truth, and respect for agency. While we usually focus on language and data, visuals are part of that narrative ecosystem too.
Images are never neutral. They carry assumptions, emotions, and cultural signals. When we rely heavily on stock imagery, we often inherit someone else’s story—sometimes without realizing it.
For work centered on clarity and ethical leadership, that matters.
Why I Turned to AI-Generated Imagery
My move toward AI-generated images wasn’t about trends or convenience. It was about alignment.
AI-generated visuals allow me to:
- Design images that support my narrative intent
- Avoid ambiguous licensing structures
- Keep visuals conceptual rather than representational
Used responsibly, these images don’t claim to show reality. They support reflection. They hold space for meaning without replacing truth.
That distinction is essential.
A Quiet Shift in Practice
Since making this change, my work feels more coherent. The visuals no longer compete with the message—they serve it. More importantly, I feel confident that my tools reflect the values I teach.
Sometimes growth doesn’t come from failure, but from a pause that asks better questions.
That copyright email could have been the end of the story. Instead, it became an invitation to practice narrative intelligence more fully—visually as well as verbally.
And that has made all the difference.
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