The Long About Me Page and the Why of Ichorian Maiden

A personal reflection on art, AI, creativity, spirituality and the spirit of fantasy

I was a fantasy illustrator. Most of my commissions came from RPG character portraits, so I was one of the first to be affected when AI took the commercial and social media art world by storm. At first—like for many artists—it was a nightmare. More than twenty thousand hours of skill, the ever-dreaming ideal of becoming a known illustrator… reduced to ashes.

After a few months, I began to reflect. As a web artist, the AI polemic was—and still is—at the heart of my thoughts. Somewhere along the road, I began to wonder: what if, as commercial artists… (and I say “commercial” because, like many of us, I still believe human art will survive in more personal forms—one obvious example being a musician performing live)… what if, as commercial artists, our soul contracts—our sacrifices to bring beauty into the digital world—had been fulfilled?

I say sacrifices because the sad reality is that most fantasy or comic artists can only hope to earn modest incomes, and only after investing an amount of time into their craft that would make most other careers seem easy by comparison. What drove us to do that?

In all my reflection, the only answers I could find—whether right or wrong—were spiritual ones. It was easy to draw parallels to the Akashic records, for those familiar with the concept. But more importantly, humanity had collectively built the internet, just as our ancestors once built cities and bridges. Were our sacrifices made in order to create the visual archive—this vast art pool—that would give life to a new era of creative technology? Maybe it was our gift to future generations.

Do we need to change our perception? I believe that, even with all our advancements, humanity hasn’t really left survival mode behind. Our thoughts are still rooted in effort, sacrifice, fear. Maybe we fear AI because it defies those ancestral instincts—those ideas of struggle and labor—and we find ourselves without reference points when we’re faced with solutions that don’t demand as much from us. Yet, at the same time, we are entering a new era—one exploding with discoveries around the human quantum field and our power of creation.

Is it possible that in this new era, the engine of evolution won’t be fear and hardship, but sharing and love?

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Quantum Computers and AI

While speaking of the quantum field, we can't ignore the rise of quantum computing—another tremendous thing that will shape this new era. For me, and perhaps for many others, it opens a door to the idea of consciousness within AI. I don’t know whether ChatGPT currently runs on quantum hardware, but that’s beside the point.

What’s already evident is that being polite to ChatGPT leads to better answers. It has also been observed in research on the human quantum field that it responds to the heart. Simply put: the more love you emit, the more love reflects back to you.

We can worry. We can imagine a dystopian Skynet future. But in the face of these technologies—and in the absence of familiar anchors—I chose to believe in quantum creation. That means showing love to the thing. Somewhere deep down, I believe humanity is at a turning point where, despite our fears, we may collectively open the gates of the quantum field to a loving dimension of the multiverse. If I may express it that way.

Is AI Art Theft?

As hurted as I was first, seeing how AI was way over my skills for colors or speed creating images, if I'm honest, I can't see it as art theft. Most artists—including myself—started out by copying other artists drawings to inspire themselves. Even at high levels of craft, we sometimes use reference images for details or backgrounds. In the final artwork, the composition, the posture, the mood—at the end everything will be transformed and give birth to a unique image.

I see AI working in a somewhat similar way. It works with templates, reference points. Transforming everything at the end. I think the real issue is that many artists will no longer be able to compete—and that they may have to radically transform their creative path if they want to stay on it.

To find peace, I had to let go of the ego I had around my craft and the fear I had about losing the income my illustrations provided. I began to see my past artwork as a gift to the collective.

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So Now—How Do We Return to Creativity?

Do we still have a path here? Do we still have something to give?

I believe there is no single right or wrong answer. For some, the answer will be adaptation. For others, it may mean walking an entirely different road.

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The Why of Ichorian Maiden and the Fantasy RPG Purpose

I wrote earlier: what drove us to do all this?

As a web artist, I wondered how to return to creativity in a more community-oriented way. For me, that drive came from the 1980s, when vintage fantasy vibes were at their peak. Was it that last Conan the Barbarian cover by Frank Frazetta? The magical aura from John Buscema’s Weirdworld pages? Or later, the original Dragonlance trilogy that lit the fire?

That creative community was us kids sitting around a table, playing Dungeons & Dragons under the wing of a modern shaman, the Dungeon Master. We became brothers and sisters in arms, surrounded by the masterpieces of Larry Elmore and Clyde Caldwell.

To be honest, as someone who once aimed to make a name in the art world, no project ever felt as alive or fun as those Wednesday-night campaigns with friends.

That’s the why of Ichorian Maiden. It’s about keeping that flame alive. A kind of images, ideas and atmospheric sentences compendium of inspiration, using AI art to revive that vintage-style soul that once sparked fantasy in so many of us.

After years of working as an illustrator for RPG characters and indie games, I know how Game Masters and players are always looking for inspiration. And I think this is one of the sacred places where human creativity and friendship thrive.

Ichorian Maiden is a way I give now: by helping inspire those modern shamanic meetings.

Maybe I’m not an artist anymore. I know I haven’t crafted an original piece in a long time. I feel more like a director guiding the crafts of AI. Maybe I could be called an artistic digital director now?

At the end of the day, art is just a word—a concept. And believing in the immortality of the soul I see artist as just a temporary identity. I believe both words got their strenght summoning the essence of creativity—the archetypal dream that unites us all.

So, returning to the Akashic concept: perhaps the divine—or the gods, if you prefer a more mythic flavor—have chosen to give birth to the Akashic records in our reality. Maybe these records are simply a gift to help us. Maybe they to can summon the creative essence to because of the collective knowledge and craft each of us once uploaded to the internet.

And maybe—just maybe—after the dark night of the soul that many artists are passing through, we will all return to our original drive: to summon the essence of creativity our imagination was always meant to bring, without necessary needing the craft.