Standing in the Australian bush is profoundly sacred, surrounded by pulsing basslines, radiant art, and a communal energy that whispers—anything is possible. This is the world of Rainbow Serpent Festival, a unique container where not only sound and movement come alive but where the visual dimension takes on a transcendental life of its own.
At the heart of this year's festival, an extraordinary panel of artists, thinkers, and psychonauts came together for a deep-dive conversation into the nature of visionary art. What unfolded was less a panel discussion and more a ceremonial transmission. The circle explored how psychedelics impact creativity, how art becomes a spiritual practice, and what it truly means to be a visionary in a world that remembers how to dream.
The Mission of Art
Rak Razam set the tone early on, inviting the audience to see visionary art not as a style but as a way of relating to reality.
Visionary art isn't just a style, it's a way of seeing the world—and letting that world see through you.
Rak's voice was poetic and grounded, drawing from a lifetime of psychedelic exploration and metaphysical inquiry. He described how levels of synchronicity weave themselves through his artistic process—so profoundly, in fact, that it leaves no doubt in his mind that other intelligences are co-creating through him.
There's levels of synchronicity playing throughout the process... It gives me an obvious sense that other dimensions of intelligence are playing a part in the process that I just have to allow to be present.
His story crescendoed in a powerful recollection of a mushroom experience at Boom Festival, a renowned international gathering of visionary artists and thinkers, in Portugal, where he encountered a vision so intense, it left him collapsed on the earth—dissolving into what he called the 'infinite ocean of eternity.' From that surrender emerged a single, unshakable message: he had to paint what he had seen.
There was no other option but to dissolve into the infinite ocean of eternity... and then I had this clear vision: I needed to make this painting. Even if it took me years.
Later that year, during a Rainbow Serpent opening ceremony led by Indigenous elders, that vision reappeared with astonishing clarity. It was a metaphysical echo—another realm demanding to be made manifest. And so he painted it. When the work was complete, he returned to Boom Festival, only to find that his exhibition booth had been placed in the exact location where the original vision took place. Full circle. A sacred loop closed.
The audience sat in silence after he finished. It was not just a story—it was a testimony.
Art as Spellwork, Love Letter, and Warning
Another artist on the panel shared a different, equally poignant view of art—as a conduit for magic, emotion, and intention.
"I painted the compassion, Tara... I just put all my love and compassion for him into the artwork. And later, he said, 'That was strong, having that in my room.'"
Her words weren't just sentimental—they were practical magic. She sent healing to someone she loved through brush and canvas who could not receive it directly. The act of creation became a form of energetic transmission, akin to what some might call 'spellwork' in certain spiritual traditions. This wasn't a metaphor. This was a powerful, intentional act. And sometimes, she admitted with a laugh, the consequences could be intense.
"Don't invoke that one. Change the painting. You know what happened to Joan of Arc—burned at the stake!"
This wasn't just humor. It was a reminder that painting carries consequences. When you pull a symbol from the archetypal realm into the manifest world, you don't just illustrate it—you invite it. You risk becoming it.
Sacred Downloads and the Conditions for Vision
Several artists spoke about how their journeys with psychedelics and plant medicines had reoriented their entire approach to art. One described how a visionary encounter revealed that the spiritual being he saw was made up of the art he had already created. Past and future collapsed in a single hyperdimensional message.
"It showed me that its form—this sentient being—comprised all the art I had made over the last decade. Paintings from college, sketches from the '90s, all woven into a cosmic architecture."
It was an invitation and a challenge to create something in alignment with this higher order of design. The download didn't end there. As soon as he returned from the experience, the tools he needed—a scanner, software, a digital drawing tablet—were suddenly gifted to him.
And so he began to work tirelessly, digitally reassembling this vision into a tangible, accurate image. The result wasn't just a piece of art. It was a portal.
"That painting brought me into this environment, into Boom Festival, and into these art exhibitions with people that I've admired for 20 years."
The implications were clear. When artists create in alignment with visionary intelligence, life responds. The painting wasn't just a reflection of his vision. It became a bridge to a new reality.
The Inner Technology: Dream Recall and Endogenous Worlds
Bruce Darmer—scientist, artist, and long-time collaborator with Terrence McKenna—spoke about building art not with brushes but with inner technology.
"When I was a kid, I developed the ability to let these worlds run. I would shut off cognition and language. I'd turn into this orb of awareness—and then, landscapes would open up."
These endogenous trips, as he called them, became vivid, navigable dimensions. Darmer learned to pause them, take notes, and re-enter at will—using them to design real-world architecture, lunar habitats, and scientific models.
"My art isn't in paint or pixels—it's in the architecture of experience itself."
He reminded the audience that not all vision needs chemical assistance. Sometimes, imagination is the oldest and most refined technology we possess.
Art as Anchoring: Painting New Realities into Being
The panel returned again and again to a powerful notion: art is not just representation. It is creation.
One artist described how painting a figure during an ayahuasca ceremony led to that exact person appearing in her life later. Another told the story of how live painting at festivals allows the process itself to become participatory magic—people watch, engage, and are inspired not just by the final image but by the act of its becoming. These stories highlight the communal aspect of art creation, making us feel connected and part of a larger creative community.
I paint things that don't really exist. But in an infinite universe with infinite time, that means they must exist somewhere.
To create, they said, is to anchor unseen frequencies into time and space. Some called it a wave collapse. Others called it a divine invasion. Whatever the name, the message was the same: art isn't passive. It's a magical act.
Cracks in the Wall: Visionary Art Goes Mainstream
Despite longstanding resistance from institutional galleries and grant programs, many on the panel described how visionary art is increasingly breaking through the mainstream.
Another artist shared how his deeply psychedelic painting now hangs inside the Grand Hyatt in San Francisco. Another recalled a high-end commission from Dubai royalty. Visionary art, once fringe, is now being embraced in places of power.
The tide is turning.
Creating the Conditions, Not Just the Canvas
In closing, the group emphasized that visionary art isn't just about talent or technique. It's about cultivating the inner conditions necessary to receive.
What matters most isn't the subject matter—it's the state you're in when you create.
That means honoring the nervous system, the environment, and the emotional climate. It means clearing enough space for the divine to speak. Because when the vision comes—it won't wait.
And sometimes, as one artist confessed with a grin, if you don't paint what you're shown... the vision will just keep coming back.
Final Reflections: All Art Is Visionary
As the discussion drew to a close, the speakers left the audience with a quiet invitation.
"All art is visionary... If it inspires you, if it moves you—create your own and pass on the fractal invasion from the divine realms."
Because this is the heart of it: visionary art isn't just a genre. It's a practice of seeing—and allowing yourself to be seen. It's a bridge between what is and what could be—a way of collapsing time, expanding the soul, and re-enchanting a world that desperately needs it.
So whether you're sketching on napkins or building worlds in VR, whether you're painting from visions or dreaming them into being...
Tune in. Turn on. And pick up the brush.