I love to peer through the veil via imagination and explore visions through art and illustration.
A new figure emerges in the crimson world of Romeria — The Sparkster, a mischievous divine trickster who embodies the creative spark within all things. Neither god nor servant of the gods, he moves between realities offering symbols, riddles and choices that shape the unfolding myth of Ravenheart.
In the opening transmission of Ravenheart, the soil is warm, the sky burns red, and what has long been condemned as infernal reveals itself as illumination. Romeria is not heaven, nor hell, but a revealed underworld — a place where the forbidden flame becomes vitality, and the daemonic spark awakens.
This is the first descent beneath the crimson veil.
A meditation on the loss of inner illumination in modern life. This essay explores exoteric flatness, the severing of inner worlds, and the gradual de-illumination of imagination, drawing on esoteric perception, childhood vision, and the condition of a world lived entirely on the surface.
The Tree of the Future did not arrive as an idea, but as an intrusion. It stands planted in the middle of the street—vast, artificial, and unmistakably wrong—yet no one seems to notice. Beneath it, people move as if sleepwalking, accustomed to an ugliness that has become invisible through repetition. This image is not an accusation, but a mourning: for imagination stripped of feeling, for individuality softened into uniformity, and for a civilisation that has mistaken survival for living.