Brightstone

A Naturalistic Pagan : Art, Place, and Reflection

About the Work

Like many artists here, I’ve been experimenting with AI as part of my creative process, not as a replacement for authorship, but as a tool for exploration, problem-solving, and visual storytelling. I work across several platforms, including Photoshop, Corel Painter, Midjourney, RenderFX, Topaz Photo AI, and Topaz Bloom. My process varies by project, but most pieces involve substantial handwork: digital collage, repainting, revision, and selective use of AI-generated elements.

The majority of my final work happens in Corel Painter, where I can slow things down and shape the image with intention. I’m especially interested in discussing process, what was tried, what failed, what was changed, and why.

There was a time on DeviantArt when conversation about how art was made. I hope to help keep that spirit alive. Technology will keep evolving, but meaningful art still depends on the artist’s eye, hand, and choices.

I’m always glad to talk with others who are curious about workflow, craft, and the stories images can carry.

My spiritual path has taken a long and winding road. I was raised Mormon, became Catholic in my twenties, and spent more than thirty years as part of the Metropolitan Community Church. Over time, I grew uneasy with how institutional religion, especially its more fundamentalist forms, can divide rather than connect. These days, I tend to judge a spiritual path less by what it claims to believe and more by whom it chooses to welcome.

I now think of myself as a Humanistic Pagan. I don’t hold supernatural beliefs, but I find meaning in nature, myth, ritual, science, and the simple fact of being alive. For me, spirituality rises from the Earth itself, through seasonal cycles, stories we tell, and careful attention to the natural world. As I’ve grown older, I’ve become increasingly rooted in place.

The desert of southeastern Utah has shaped me in ways the city never did. In winter, I walk red rock trails beneath wide, silent skies. In summer, I seek the alpine meadows of the western Rockies, where water runs cold and green still gathers in sheltered places. Much of my reverence for land comes from my maternal grandmother, who lived simply and attentively. She taught me mostly by example on how to listen.

I live with my partner, David, in southern Utah near Arches and Canyonlands National Parks. We spend much of our time outdoors, walking canyons, observing plants and birds, or working with semi-precious stones as rockhounds. The land is not a backdrop to my life; it is an active presence in it.