Services

Enter with your skin.
Not your mind.

Tihs is not a gallery.

I didn’t go to art school.
I went to war with my own mind.
And I came back with a few paintings.

This is a ritual archive.
Each image holds a moment I couldn’t explain.
Some are ugly. Some are beautiful.
All of them are true.

The Portal

Don’t try to “get it” — let it get you

You don’t have to like what I make.
But if you feel it...
then welcome home.

You didn’t find this by accident.

Fragments of contact

This is what happens when I let go of the brush and something older than time moves through me.

Heart In Protection

Feelings of cosmos

I didn’t learn this.
I remembered it.
And sometimes I forget again.
That’s why I keep drawing.

Family love

Some of you will feel like you've seen these images before.
That’s because you have.
Just not here. Not yet.

My Inner World

I draw to stay alive.

I’ve been initiated through fire, loss, glitter, rage, silence, and cats.
I didn’t choose this — I just stopped resisting.

If you feel too much — you’re not alone.

This place is for the ones who
— stare into walls and see light
— cry over sounds
— forget time while drawing
— feel everything, always, all at once

The Key

Energy doesn’t need translation.

Inner Fire

My work is not for your logic.
It’s for the part of you that dreams without asking.

No filters. No comfort. Just contact.

Fire doesn’t ask who you are. It just shows you.

Your soul knows when something’s real. That’s why you're still reading.

Messages I’ve received, accidentally on purpose:

Silent Armor

I’m a collection of frequencies that refused to shut up.

This is a place for those who feel the rhythm before they hear the sound.
Some of us don’t follow paths. We remember them with our bodies.

The Blockade

Two World Collide

– You were never meant to fit
– You were never really asleep
– The line is alive
– This is not madness
– You’re remembering

I never trained in this.
But I’ve been initiated by pain, by truth, by colours that refused to wait.

The Reunion

Mirror Of Time

I don’t talk to spirits.
I let them move my hand.

Fire Guides me.

Some wounds open portals.

Some came through tears.
Some through trance.
Some through caffeine and no sleep.
All of them came when I was honest.

Reality leaks through color.

The First Portal

The Infinite Fire

This is what healing actually looks like.

Me And The Devil

Deep inside

Ljusår-My Fathers Blessing

The Creator

Some of us were born loud.
Not in volume — in frequency.
And that’s why it’s been hard to breathe here

We didn’t cry louder.
We just vibrated deeper.
Our presence rang in rooms before we ever spoke.
And people felt it —
so they told us to “calm down,”
before we even moved.

We weren’t made to fit.
We were made to stir.
To shake bones.
To remind others what truth feels like when it’s raw and bright and impossible to ignore.

We are the static in the silence.
The ringing in your ears when the world goes quiet.
The pulse under your skin that you thought was anxiety —
but was actually just your soul remembering itself.

So yes.
It’s been hard to breathe here.
But we keep doing it anyway.
Loud.
Even when we’re silent.🔥

All seeing

Death

Worthlessnes

Engaging cosmos

Infinite healing

Love Heals

Enlightened in chaos

Masks of decseption

Reviews

🐾✨ Guardians of My Heartspace

💫 TOGETHER:

They kept me real.
They held the room when I couldn’t.
They knew when I was about to fall —
and simply laid next to me.

Some are here.
Some are not.
But all of them
are still watching.

This site is protected by eldvarelser.🔥

We burn before we break.🔥

🐈 Selma – The Soft-Fanged Seer

She walks like a question I’m not meant to answer.
Still here. Still staring into the part of me that glows even when Im sad, angry or when i lose my-self.
Guardian of silence,
Purr that vibrates at the exact pitch of coming back to myself.

🐈 Bullen – The Loud Hunter

Bullen didn’t whisper.
He announced his existence.

he was also surgical.
Moved like smoke,
struck like thunder.
Flies, shadows, thoughts — nothing escaped him.

My loudest protector.
Master of chaos.
Assassin in fur.

🐶 Woffie – The Joy-Spirit

Small body, massive soul.
Bounced through rooms like laughter.
Stayed close when I drifted.

Always ready to play.
A heartbeat made of light.

The quiet council

Ritual

They’ve never asked to be understood.
But they’ve always stayed,
when the world didn’t.

Connect with Me

Follow your soul

Emailinfo@thornhive.com

Hatred

✨I Am...?

I am a tree that never asked for roots —but grew them deep into forgotten places.

The wind listens when I breathe.

The water obeys when I’m still.

The fire? It waits. Because it knows I don’t burn for show —I burn to shift the unseen.

I am a language without words.

I am motion inside silence.

I am not meant to be understood.

I am…?

I dreamt I became a shaman.
I created fire with my hands.
Then I walked into the system — with my cat, not my fear.

"This is not just a painting.
This is a portal.
I met his eyes.
I faced the rage.
And I let it burn.
My father is free now.
And so am I."

The Message to My 7-Year-Old Self

Contact Info

info@thornhive.com