#fantasmatics

[fantasmatics-art]

when a gamer friend asks for a new avatar you paint the one that matches his energy

stone golem. cracked obsidian. lightning veins.

“i’ve been afk for three minutes and i’m still ranked higher than you” ⚡

[fantasmatics-art]

His character’s backstory was three pages long. I read every word.

This wolf berserker was commissioned by an RPG player who clearly loves his character. War paint, wolf pelt, the bone necklace, the shield with the wolf head — every single element had a reason. None of it was random.

When someone shows up with a backstory that long, you don’t cut corners. You sit with it. You make sure the character looks the way they’ve been imagining for months. Maybe years. You read about the battles and the losses and the moment they decided who they were going to be, and then you try to put all of it into a single image.

This is one of the best parts of doing commissions. You don’t just paint a character. You honor someone’s creation.

[fantasmatics-art]

Sometimes a brief is one sentence and that’s all you need.

An author reached out asking for a landscape for her upcoming book — the first one she’s self-publishing this year. The brief: “A place where the old gods went to sleep, and the world grew over them.”

So I painted this. A massive stone hand rising out of misty waters, ferns and moss claiming it back, waterfalls pouring through fingers that haven’t moved in centuries. The kind of place where you’d row up in a small boat and forget how to speak.

I love when writers come with poetic descriptions instead of bullet points. It gives me room to breathe. To find the image inside the words instead of trying to translate a checklist.

[fantasmatics-art]

Round two for the dark fantasy café.

After the harbor piece, my friend asked for a second painting for the opposite wall. Same vibe, different scale. She wanted something big, gothic, and unmistakably the home of Someone You Don’t Want To Visit.

So I painted this castle. Spires reaching into a bruised sky, every window glowing faintly orange, bats circling the towers in front of a cold full moon, snow covering the road and the pines below. The kind of place where you absolutely should not accept a dinner invitation.

Painting villain architecture is honestly therapy. You get to commit fully to the drama. No restraint. No subtlety. Just “yes, more spires. yes, more bats. yes, the moon is too big and that’s correct.” Sometimes art is about precision. And sometimes it’s about saying yes to every gothic instinct you have until the painting tells you to stop.

[fantasmatics-art]

Sugar strikes again.

My cat Šećer (“Sugar” in Serbian) is the gift that keeps on giving when it comes to inspiration. Every time I look at her, my brain starts inventing new versions of what she could be in another world.

This time? Scales made of flower petals. A mane of blossoms. Forest spirit energy. She sat on my desk while I painted this one, completely unaware that she was the muse.

Honestly, having a cat is basically having a tiny art director who refuses to give feedback but still expects to be paid in treats. I am eternally grateful for her existence and her unwillingness to help.

[fantasmatics-art]

TUMBLR

Painted the literal mouth of hell for a fantasy author this week. Normal Friday.

She’s working on a dark fantasy novel and needed a key location: the place where her main villain holds court. Not a castle. Not a throne room. Something older. Something the LAND itself has opinions about.

So I gave her a colossal skull carved into a volcanic cliffside, lava bleeding from its jaw, the sky bruised orange and the rocks themselves looking like they’re trying to crawl away. The kind of place where you don’t need a sign that says “turn back.” The geography handles that for you.

I love it when authors trust me with the scary stuff. There’s a kind of permission that comes with painting something genuinely menacing — you don’t have to be polite, you don’t have to soften the edges. You just have to commit. And committing is fun.

[fantasmatics-art]

An orc, a burning castle, and one very questionable life decision (mine, for spending six hours on those tusks).

This was a commission for an RPG player whose orc barbarian is exactly what you’d expect: huge, angry, and standing on the rubble of whatever he just smashed. The brief was “mid-rampage,” and I took that personally.

Glowing red eyes, spiked shoulder armor, a skull belt buckle, and tusks I will be seeing in my dreams for at least a week. Behind him? A castle on fire. Because of course it’s on fire. He’s the reason it’s on fire.

Some characters are subtle and quiet and full of hidden depth. This one is not. He is loud, he is angry, and he is HERE. And honestly? That’s the appeal. Not every character needs to be a tortured anti-hero. Sometimes they just need to be a wall of muscle with a bad attitude and a good axe.

[fantasmatics-art]

Baby shower gift, but make it dragon.

A mom-to-be was about to welcome her son into the world, and instead of another onesie, someone wanted to give her something a little more meaningful. So I painted this little guy — just hatched, fresh out of the shell, sitting on top of an ancient spellbook like he’s already plotting his first adventure.

The message was simple: this baby is going to be strong, unique, and absolutely his own kind of magical. The world isn’t ready.

Honestly, this might be one of the cutest commissions I’ve ever done. Look at his little face. He has plans. Big plans. Probably involving snacks.