All images on this page are "Sections of Paintings", by the Spanish Artist Luis Royo ( Born in 1954 in Olalla, Spain )
Royo's Fantasy Art is...(for me anyway)...as good as it gets!...
In my humble opinion, he is the Master of this Art Form...and an Extra-ordinary Artist and Painter...a Giant!
His Art is Passionate, Enormous, Symbolic, Futuristic, and Spectacular, with contrasting " Play-Offs " between Horrific Scenes, and Exquisite Beauty.
It is Honest, Un-Pretentious and Un-Inhibited ...and taken to the Extreme!
I am definitely one of Luis Royo's Most Loyal Fans, and over the years I have collected many examples of his work.
For me...not much can compare with his Mind-Blowing Creativity and unique Style.
His Warrior Women are Wild and Beautiful, Vivacious and Sexual, Powerful and Erotic...and they are Trapped in Mysterious Worlds ...Places unknown to us...
There are some Images by Royo, which are not for “Sensitive” People!
And DEFINITELY Not For Children!...So be advised, and Take Care...
This Astonishing Artist is often ruthlessly cruel and explicit (but honest) in his work.He has no Mental Boundaries...
There is only Passion, and Total Freedom of Expression!
It's as if his paintings are prophecies of "Things Still To Come"...
And it can be disturbing...
His work in some ways... symbolizes the Terrible Impact of Technology on our Frail World, and own Existence.
Luis Royo Fantasy Art shows the Contrast between Tenderness and Cruelty... Beauty and Horror...Flesh and Steal... Light and Darkness...
Luis Royo does not create his Fantastic Worlds... and Amazing Creatures to impress me or you...No! He creates it for HIMSELF... Because he just HAS TO!...
You can see this phenomenon everywhere in Luis Royo Fantasy Art. It is FANTASTIC beyond description! There’s nothing else like it!
It is totally UNIQUE!...
The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow ; But a tyrant spell has bound me, And I cannot, cannot go.
The giant trees are bending Their bare boughs weighed with snow ; The storm is fast descending, And yet I cannot go.
Clouds beyond clouds above me, Wastes beyond wastes below ; But nothing drear can move me : I will not, cannot go.
from "The Night is Darkening Around Me", by Emily Bronte
