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There's a road in California that is the last hand-built road made in the state. Nothing special about it, in particular (aside from the terrifying, exposed drop), otherwise.

But since I know the human history of the road, it _feels_ different when I'm on it than other machine-built roads.

It's the same in a hand-made house. Knowing the human labor gives the house a different vibe.

If we look at 10 paintings and one was painted by a human master artist, it becomes, to me, more impressive than the AI works, even if it isn't the award-winner.

These sentiments are incredibly subjective, of course. Some people simply feel no difference between a hand-made brick and a machine-made brick other than the latter is likely cheaper and of higher material quality.

But for those of us looking for the indescribable _soul_ of the work, we fail to find it in those produced by machine.

I just visited Lowell National Park and watched the mechanical looms in action. The cloth they produced was blandly soulless, like all the cloth we use and wear and discard. The loom itself, on the other hand, was a hand-built mechanical work of art, and felt amazingly _human_ by compassion.

This isn't something we tend to value in the US, though. The closest we get is people hanging their kids' childhood art on the walls and buying custom art at great expense to increase social standing. And a few support-your-indy-artist types.

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