The Dark Pillars

- Ship Log 0147 -

The pillars... we felt compelled by the lifeless behemoths. We started hearing things. At first it sounded like the wind. The wind turned to breathing. Soon that breathing became a voice. They called. We all heard it. We never stop hearing it.Each day we stay a little longer listening to these empty calls. Time is slipping. I no longer know how long we have been on this planet. We must leave tomorrow. I fear if we do not, we never will. I just want to listen a little while longer...

• The Art Prints

Strange Times

The wasteland fell silent. The wind stopped. He could hear nothing but his heart pounding and his horse breathing.The air had changed. A great blanket of darkness consumed dune after dune until he too was enveloped in shadow. Mid-day and he was now in a twilight world. He checked his watch to confirm it was indeed around high noon. It had stopped ticking.Something wasn’t right. He could feel it. His horse could feel it. The desert itself could feel it. Yes, something was very wrong.What was this? Looking up at the now shrouded sun the man asked himself:
“How could this be happening? How can there be three eclipses in one day?”

• The Art Prints

Forests Of Light

It had been days since entering the forest. At first everything seemed normal. Now lost in the most unusual of places, the young explorer did not feel any fear. There was an overwhelming sense of peace. Although he was running low on rations, the land was fertile. He could smell the earth and feel the richness of the soft soil. The forest was providing him with all that he needed.Others had warned him about entering the Forests of Light. As those who entered were not seen again. No longer did he care about proving them all wrong. He did not care about returning a hero with stories to tell of his adventures. Now a different thought crossed his mind. Maybe no one returned because there was no reason to. Maybe he was on the path to a paradise. A place that those not brave enough to enter would ever experience.He was starting to notice something odd about this place. The deeper in he went, the larger the flora and fauna became. It wasn’t immediately noticeable. Nothing too out of the ordinary caught his eye, until he tripped over a bizarre looking seed. It looked similar to an acorn, but it was the size of his head and took both hands to pick up.It was at this time he noticed something else. Ahead the forest was so bright, warm, and welcoming. Always ahead, an unearthly light so wonderfully spilled its rays through the canopy. The path already traveled was another story. Behind him, just over his shoulder was a darkness that kept perfect pace as he rode on. His horse grew uneasy whenever he would try to back track, as did he. The sense of peace he felt would instantly vanish.Luckily, once he turned back towards the light, he felt reassured. Any feelings of dread or uncertainty would, again, also vanish.

• The Art Prints

Under Ancient Skies

A small flightless bird-like creature was done hunting for the day. Its whole life until this point was a nonstop period of growing and learning through trial and error. In the past, survival was a struggle. This was less true now.Lately, something had changed. No longer was this creature fearful and on the run. It began to feel strong, capable, and sure of itself. It felt sure of its purpose and how to thrive in the land to which it was born.For the first time the creature could briefly let its focus fade from the surrounding environment. It looked to the mysterious little fires burning in the void above. A small feeling bubbled up from deep within the creature’s consciousness. It could feel what it was like to be alive.

• The Art Prints

Poison Sands

Yet another trip across the poison desert. Stretching into the horizon a sea of toxic sand shimmers an iridescent green in the moonlight. Each lifeless grain a tiny fang waiting to deliver its toxins.Like always, precautions were taken. When traveling here a horse must be fitted with special horse shoes and the rider with special boots. A face covering must always be worn to keep the hallucinogenic dust at bay. Inhalation is always a risk. Just one storm and those who wander across this forbidden land are lost, dissolved into nothing while seeing ghosts.Such a fate was not likely tonight, though. The sky is clear and the route carefully chosen. Tonight is a good night to cross the poison sands.

• The Art Prints

The Courier

One last delivery. "Why, oh, why does my final delivery have to end like this?” the courier thought. Old and tired, this was the final run to be made before retiring and finally calling it quits.The storm was the worst in years and the dust clouds made it impossible to see or move forward. Unseen demons threw sand in the courier’s eyes and ears. Maybe this was punishment for the cargo being carried? It was a mystery as to what that cargo was. It was not a courier’s job to know. Only to deliver.Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, a beam of light pierced the clouds. The wind ceased. The now still grains of sand left hanging in the air fell to the ground. All was calm. The desert had never looked so beautiful.Onward.

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THE FLATS

He made it. At least he made it to where his pursuers could not follow. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.Now his problem was entirely different. Those who hunted him would no longer follow for a reason. Ahead was nothing. Nothing but a flat, empty, searing Hellscape. This was what stood between him and his freedom. This cursed land was his salvation.He was committed now. Forward was the only way. Turning back, or even slowing down was certain death. Forward he went.

• The Art Prints

The Great Migration

A once in a lifetime phenomenon has started on the very edge of the super continent. Majestic mountains of flesh and bone have gathered as far as the eye can see. The once peaceful shores have come to life for the march of the leviathans. The time has come for another generation to make the journey.Although no individual knows where the destination is, each one knows the direction to go. Their genetic memory is the current in which they travel on. Collectively and intuitively the herd moves together as though the congregation itself is a singular life form. They set out, guided by the now invisible footprints of ten thousand generations that came before.The great migration has begun.

• The Art Prints

Art Inspired Stories

I created this series to lean more heavily into world building. Each artwork and story here was illustrated and written by me. I wanted to see what kind of stories the art could inspire with the hope that each will spark the imagination of you, the reader.Here you will visit worlds that are in many ways familiar, while at the same time strikingly alien. Beautifully desolate places where the scale and isolation may be slightly unsettling. Let your imagination take you on a lonesome journey through a Strange Frontier.I hope you enjoy exploring these worlds as much as I did creating them.- Matthew Stroka
Creator of Strange Frontier Art

Follow me on Instagram to keep up to date with the latest art or check here once in a while to see what new worlds there are to discover.

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The print shop

All art here is available for purchase through my INPRNT print shop. All prints are custom made on demand on gallery quality archival-rated paper, canvas, metal, or acrylic. All orders fulfilled by INPRNT.My shop has all art found in this series as well as many more of my other works.
Shipping can take up to 2-3 weeks. Your patience is appreciated.

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