A note from Jan
Your character, two weeks from now

Tomorrow, around 9 AM PST, you’ll get a text from me with the link to this month’s commission slots.
There are 12 to 15 of them. That’s how many pieces I can finish in a month without rushing yours.
Start with your character.
The one you took through the Quest. The one with the detail you’ve never told your party about, and the look ChatGPT and Gemini never got quite right.
Right now, they live in your head. Vivid to you. Invisible to everyone else.
But two weeks from now, that changes.
The finished portrait lands on your phone, and the first thing you feel is relief. It’s them. The way they stand. The look they get right before they do something the party will talk about for years. Someone finally saw them the way you do.

Then your party sees it.
Ohh, so THAT’S what they look like
Oh shit, the purple makes sense now, you kept mentioning penance but I thought it was just flavor text
Okay NOW I get why you freak out every time someone gets hurt
And at the next session, the whole table is picturing the same character you’ve been playing all along.
When the campaign ends, the way they all eventually do, that painting is what’s left. Proof it all happened. Proof they were real.
Getting there is the easy part. The hard part was describing them, and you already did that in the Quest.
I work on every piece myself, and I check in with you along the way. If the first painting doesn’t feel like your character, you get every dollar back. And we revise until it’s right, at no extra cost.

Almost everyone who orders from me has never bought character art before. There are over 500 reviews on the site if you want to see how it went for them.
Here’s what the slots cost.
Half body is $99. Thigh up is $139. Full body is $199.
Every size comes with the same guarantee, and there’s a Pay in 4 option at checkout if you’d rather split it up.
And here’s exactly how tomorrow goes.
My text lands in the morning. You tap the link, pick a size, and check out. The whole thing takes about a minute.

Slots open in waves, roughly in the order people joined the list. If they’re gone when you get there, you’re first in line for the next batch, and the same text comes again in four weeks.
So nothing bad happens if you wait. You keep your place, and you play a few more sessions with the placeholder.
But campaigns don’t wait. Somewhere ahead of you is your character’s last session, and nobody knows which one it is until it’s already happened.
Years from now, this campaign will be a story you tell. The group will have moved on to new characters, and most of the details will have gone soft.
If all you kept was the placeholder, there won’t be much to look back at. A picture that was never really them, lost in some folder on an old phone.
A portrait is different. You’ll pull it up years later, and they’ll look right back at you. The stance. That look. For a second, the whole campaign is right there again.

Worst case, the painting doesn’t feel like them and every dollar comes back. Best case, you’re still looking at them years from now.
Watch for my text tomorrow morning. I’ll talk to you then.
Jan