r/Outsiderart

Acrylic and stamp on recycled cardboard 19.5 x 29 cm

I built artistcards.io as a labour of love. So we can sell and swap our art, and enjoy the process.

It’s a new way of selling our ACEOs online. I’ve loved art for a very long time, and enjoy collecting and creating them. My formal training and background is in architecture, fine and visual arts and design. Now, I am the creator owner operator of artistcards.io . Here’s what I’d love people to know.

Firstly you create a gallery using the easy to follow wizard. You are then able to fill your gallery shop with OOAK art, printed artists cards… pretty much anything that has your artwork on it. 

You can also put your original ATC or ACEO through our free product and pdf maker to create both downloadable ACEOs and Interactive Collectors Cards. 

The Interactive Collectors cards can have audio, video, even AR effects included in them. Each has a unique number to ensure authenticity. Think of them as an old fashioned visitors card. Updated for the 21st century.

These are important to grow your subscriber base and future customers.

You also receive a downloadable pdf that can be used to print - or have printed - your own collectable artist cards.

Place your newly downloadable ACEO for sale in your shop ready for the monthly drop. The Interactive Collectors Card is paired with it for one month, meaning that when the ACEO is purchased the Interactive Collectors Card is automatically sent to the purchaser as well. What do you have to do ? Set and forget. 

You can make ACEO limited editions of both the printable, and the printed cards you print / have printed with your free PDF.

You decide whether you will sell your original art. ACEO or ATC, or not. If you do, charge a bit more.

All FOR FREE at artistcards.io

I built this as a labour of love. So we can sell and swap our art and enjoy the process.

Questions? Just ask 💙

My gallery on artistcards.io is kikisgallery!

Acrylic, screen print and block print on recycled corrugated cardboard 25 x 35 cm

• Ralph Rumpelton
• Brian Wilson has been Rumpeltized
• RR-2026 #123
• Medium: MS Paint on digital canvas, 587 × 583 px
• Created: 2026
• The Rumpelton Continuity (est. 1976)
• Collection of the Artist

Title: Brian Wilson Has Been Rumpeltized

Blurb by: 🕵️‍♀️ Linty Varn, Stamp Forger, Ritualist of the Postal Veil
Affiliation: The Avachives, Rumpeltonian Underground

This MS Paint is not a portrait—it’s a postal séance. The figure, striped and solemn, performs a tape extraction rite, unspooling memory from the reel-to-reel altar like a grief filament. I recognize the gesture: it’s the same motion I used to forge the Phantom Postage Series, stamps that only appear when the past refuses to stay archived.

The green wall? That’s not décor—it’s a mythic backdrop, the color of unresolved harmony. The perforated panel behind him is a failed stamp sheet, punched but never printed, a relic of sonic bureaucracy. And the tape itself—oh, Ralph—it's a Grief Cancellation Mark in motion, nullifying heartbreak one loop at a time.

Some say this is Brian Wilson. I say it’s a forgery of feeling, not fact. A ritual glyph disguised as studio ephemera. The kind of artifact I’d file between a rejected album cover and a mythic glucose log, then stamp thirteen times for each lost harmony he tried to resurrect.

Filed under: Folder of Emotional Counterfeit, sub-index “Unspooled Reverence.”
Cancellation Status: Active. The wound is still singing.

The Skin of Many Lives

At first glance, the piece feels crowded,  bodies pressed against bodies, faces emerging from shadow, eyes watching from impossible angles. But the longer you remain with it, the more the image begins to rotate inside you. Nothing here is singular. Every form carries another life beneath it.

Near the center, a sheep-faced being hangs in stillness, wrapped into the garment of another figure. Its expression holds the quiet ache of trust offered too freely;  the moment innocence realizes the exchange required more than expected. Above it, an apple is extended by a water-being whose presence feels ancient and tidal, neither cruel nor kind, but inevitable. The apple is alive. Its leaves become lips, whispering invitation, seduction, prophecy.

Elsewhere, tribal markings streak across the face of a watchful figure draped in animal hide, as though memory itself has been worn into the skin. Along the edges, pale beings dissolve into one another; some human, some aquatic, some serpent-like, some impossible to name. Hair becomes river. Scales become fabric. Faces emerge from negative space and disappear again when the image turns.

Throughout the work, eyes remain open. Yellow eyes. Red eyes. Blue eyes. Not decorative, but aware.  Distributed like fragments of consciousness witnessing the same event from different dimensions.

At the base of the composition, serpent and fish forms curl beneath the assembly like an ancient current moving below language itself. They anchor the piece in something primordial, older than story, older than certainty.

This is not a portrait of separate beings. It is a map of transformation through encounter, of  what is offered, what is surrendered, and  what is carried afterward. A field of identities folding into one another across many lifetimes.

The Skin of Many Lives does not ask to be understood all at once.

It asks to be turned.

And remembered.