About Digital Art by Richard Salamanca

I create my images from a combination of both photographic material, and also material created from scratch in Photoshop. I have had the blessing of having experienced several mystical, or miraculous occurrences during my lifetime, and I often try to include elements from these experiences into my work. I also like to maintain a sense of humor about the absurdities of modern life, and thus many of my pictures are satirical in nature. From time to time, when the muses are with me, I create poetry. When I am blessed enough to create a poem of significant merit, I will publish it here, on this page. I invite you to check back from time to time to see my latest poem.

The Mist Behind


Grey and mournful behind me,

a field slopes away into mist which follows my pace, gently stalking me. When I advance, it too advances;

when I pause, mist lingers, churning slow and silent, full of menace and eager to acquire

and erase

all traces I loved and left behind.


As I advance, the mist behind takes

 more and more;

 with more sadness than I can say, I can no longer remember my own first kiss.


Far out within this field, out of kindness, someone has left a sign, a warning: “Beware Of Bull”. 

I know the beast; he has covered the library, the school, and the temple in advertising: there is now a price tag on every heart and seat.

I know the beast; he has tricked me into the conviction

that my life, my self, my art-

all are things which can be priced, sold, quantified, and traded.


I know the breath of the beast,

I remember it's snickers at the back of the classroom.

I feel its every strategy within the mists behind me. Ever lurking, and gently advancing,

it takes the brushes of stars with which I have combed my hair, and covers them in little red stickers

Proclaiming: “Hurry! 50% off today only”.


I know the beast: for when I was innocent,

I foolishly told him my hopes and dreams-

my children of art adoringly cradled in my arms.

Breathing slow and deep with rage,

eyes afire with envy,

speaking close, and hot at my ear he now gently asks,

 “Can you make any money at that?”