Good Artists Copy, Great Artists Steal

Yesterday I saw something that stopped my scrolling. A simple image shared by Jay Alto.

It hit me hard because it’s true. In this universe, everything is an undetected plagiarism. Everything we do and we dream is influenced by what came before.

Nothing is original. And that’s perfectly fine.

Because it all comes down to one thing: taste. Either you have it, or you don’t.

You can’t fake it. You can’t force it. If you try, it shows like a microwave dinner pretending to be gourmet.

But here’s where it gets interesting…

Either your answer will be a Yes or a No, there’s no in-between. Taste is something you have, and you can’t build it. Even if you try it’ll look half cooked.

A Good Artist Honor

True. A good artist, a true one, always honors the art and adds his part to it. A true artist will not degrade the original work ever. He just can’t it’ll feel like vomit.

There is a good example.

Pablo Picasso’s “Las Meninas” Series (1957). He honored the original artwork by Diego Velázquez.

If you’ll gaze at the painting by Picasso, you’ll not see plagiarism. You’ll see grace. Magic. It does not scream, “am copied.” It has authenticity. And this is something very very rare.

He didn’t copy Velázquez. He didn’t try to outdo him. He danced with his legacy like he wanted to be a part of an eternal chorus.

This is rare because of one single reason: We want to be first.

When we claim to be original, we forget we’re all part of something bigger. A true, honorable artist knows that art isn’t about being first.

It’s about being true.

Good Artists Study

Bad artists skims. They don’t care about depth; their sense of “care” is superficial and superficial.

Their understanding is as shallow as their effort.

But good artists study. When they find something magnificent, they sit with it. They live with it. They understand it.

It is said that if you like someone’s writing, you must study what books they read and copy some of their best works on paper.

I liked Gary Halbert’s style of writing and storytelling. When I fell in love with his storytelling, I didn’t just read his letters. I wrote them down, word by word. I studied his rhythm, his flow, his choices. I read the books that shaped his mind. Because you can’t become a master by scrolling through one.

I can’t expect to be like Gary if I skim his work and believe I’ll become like him in 30 days.

Look at Édouard Manet’s “Olympia.” He didn’t just glance at Titian’s “Venus of Urbino” and think, “Cool pose, let me copy that.”

Manet took inspiration from Titian’s “Venus of Urbino” (1538). If you’ll see Manet’s painting, you’ll not see a poor copy of Urbino.

He studied Titian’s composition, subject matter, and thematic elements. Where Titian had a sleeping dog, Manet placed a black cat. Where Titian showed a goddess, Manet painted a courtesan. He wasn’t copying – he was continuing a conversation across centuries.

He altered the narrative and symbolism based on the societal conditions of his time. You’ll see Manet’s bold commentary, which is not the result of mere skimming but a thorough study.

That’s what great artists do. They don’t steal or imitate, they understand.

And when they finally create, their work doesn’t shout “inspired by.” It says “evolved from.”

Sorry to break this down to you, but the fact is you can’t skim your way to greatness…

Good Artists Steal from Many

When someone says great artist, I hear Picasso. The sole reason is that the man took inspiration from the world, yet all his work seems original.

His works are some of the biggest examples of what my point is.

Good artists take inspiration from many, add their own magic, and play the eternal dance of creativity with the universe.

The universe is beautiful; it creates and innovates but never bores. And that’s what Picasso is for me: a man who never bored.

Think about Picasso’s famous Cubism. Picasso’s development of Cubism was influenced by African tribal masks, the works of Paul Cézanne, and Iberian sculpture.

What Picasso and Braque did wasn’t calculated. They weren’t trying to create an art movement. They were just two artists exploring, failing, and discovering. When critics finally labeled their work “Cubism” in 1909, they had already spent years just… creating.

Every great artist knows this truth – you don’t create in isolation. The Impressionists built on Mannerists, the Fauvists expanded on Impressionists, and Picasso? He built on everyone.

That’s what makes great artists different.

When they steal, they steal from so many sources that the result becomes something entirely their own.
Look closely at any masterpiece, and you’ll see echoes of what came before.

But listen carefully, and you’ll hear a new voice singing an old song in a new way.

So What Makes Someone a Theif

I wrote this note to remind myself that good work doesn’t need to be original. It needs to be authentic. It needs to have my soul in it.

Remember when I talked about taste? That’s where this all connects.

Taste isn’t just about knowing what’s good. It’s about knowing how to make something yours.

It doesn’t matter if you’re a coder, writer, painter, architect, or potter – you should look for great work around you. Get inspired. Create your version. But here’s the key: make it reflect your taste.

But what makes someone a thief?

A thief is someone who takes without giving back, someone who copies without adding their touch, someone who hides the original source and diminishes the original work.

Look at coding. Every developer uses Stack Overflow. They copy code snippets, study GitHub repositories, and learn from others’ solutions. That’s not stealing

But when a developer copies an entire codebase and calls it their own – that’s theft.

An artist takes what resonates with their taste and builds something new.

If you’re only taking, you’re a thief. If you’re learning, adding, improving, and crediting, you’re an artist.

Choose wisely.

Now it’s your turn to contribute one this. Tell me, sometimes the best work isn’t original, it’s authentic. What’s your take on this?