The Wayward Alchemist ™

Step into The Art Gallery, where each illustration is drawn by hand using modern tools and ancient inspiration. Every artwork begins as a sketch and becomes a finished piece infused with dark fairy tale charm, alchemy, folklore, and ancient symbolism. These digital art prints are crafted with the same patience and precision as traditional mediums—each one a relic of imagination, offered as high-quality prints or downloadable editions.

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All Art

The Moonlit Gallery Walk

The Moonlit Gallery

Scroll to walk through the silent halls

Castle in the Sky

The Castle in the Sky

Some kingdoms cannot be reached by road or sea. They exist only for those who have learned to walk on air and dream with open eyes.

Lunar Magic

Lunar Magic

The moon keeps her secrets well. She shows us only what we are ready to see, and hides the rest in shadow.

Bottled Up

Bottled Up

We contain what we cannot speak. Glass holds more than liquid—it holds the words we swallow, the tears we save, the truths we preserve.

The Alchemist

The Alchemist

In the space between substance and spirit, transformation waits. The greatest work is not turning lead to gold, but making the invisible visible.

Winter's Rest

Winter’s Rest

Even in the coldest season, memory keeps vigil. Snow blankets stone, but beneath it, names remain—patient and permanent.

The Sun

The Sun

Light reveals, but also exposes. There is nowhere to hide in the sun’s gaze—everything becomes visible, for better or worse.

The Moon

The Moon

She changes but never dies. Waxing and waning, appearing and disappearing—constant in her inconstancy, faithful in her phases.

The Lovers

The Lovers

Two souls, one choice. To intertwine is to risk everything—but to remain separate is to risk nothing, which may be the greatest loss of all.

The Hanged Man

The Hanged Man

Sometimes wisdom comes only when we surrender. Inverted, suspended, seeing the world from an angle impossible to those who stand upright.

Sleeping Beauty

The Long Sleep

She waits in the space between death and waking. Some curses look like rest, and some prisons are made of thorns and time.

My Moonlight

My Moonlight

This light is not the sun’s reflection. It is something older, borrowed from darkness itself—gentle, patient, and entirely its own.

Ghost Candle

The Ghost Candle

Some flames outlast the flesh that lit them. This light burns for those who have gone, keeping vigil in the space they left behind.

Balloons

What Rises Must Return

Joy is fragile, tethered by the thinnest string. We release it into the sky and hope it doesn’t drift too far to find its way back.

Baptism

The Baptism

To be submerged is to die and be reborn. Water holds us under until we are clean, or until we understand what it means to breathe again.

Autumn

Autumn’s Surrender

The trees know what we forget: that letting go is not failure. That death makes space for what comes next. That beauty lives in the falling.

Corpse Bride Forest

The Bride’s Woods

She waits where the veil is thinnest, dressed in what was meant for joy. Some promises survive death. Some loves refuse to rest.

Mysterious Portrait

The Watchful One

Eyes that have seen too much cannot look away. This face remembers every story, every secret, every soul that passed through.

Final Vision

The Final Vision

At the end of the gallery, this waits—a truth we’ve been walking toward all along. What you see here depends on what you carried with you.