My mind bounces between the real and imagined, as in the title of my recent collection of essays, Truth and Fantasy, or as in the characters inhabiting the twilight zone between life and death in my short stories, Notes Going Underground. I am certainly not the first to breathe life into inanimate creations. Consider the monster created from parts of a corpse in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, or objects brought to “life” if touched by Füsun in Orphan Pamuk’s novel, The Museum of Innocence, or the adorable R2-D2 and 3-CPO robots in Star Wars.

While not conceptually new, robots are rising from science fiction to an ambiguous reality. In Kazuo Ishiguro’s novel, Klara and The Sun, the robot Klara cares for the sick teenager, Josie, and a love story evolves between her and the robot. Kate Darling, an MIT robotics scientist, stresses in The New Breed that robots not only complement and help people, they inspire human qualities, such as mourning when damaged and emotional attachment of a close friend or pet dog.

In the recent New York Times, Emma Bubula reports on robots creating sculptures commissioned by famous artists. Robots as artists! Imagine! Many of the artists insist that their identities remain anonymous to keep alive the idea they are still using the age-old hammer and chisel. How about that for creating the new without giving up the old. Is it even possible? Where’s the line between machine and man? Robots substituting for artists deceiving us! The old question of “what’s authentic?” needs to be replaced by “what’s the definition of authentic?” Who’s the artist: the one who signs the work or the programmer?

Oh, yes, the artists give a few moments of a final human touch to their machine-made sculptures; robots aren’t perfect…yet. Have patience.