Assembled by Peter Ligeti

Fine Art Photographer & Digital Painter

I suppose everyone loves the character of Frankenstein. I most certainly did. The idea of assembling a living, breathing creature from spare parts—then giving it a jolt of life—has always fascinated me. That moment of ignition, when chaos becomes motion, mirrors my own creative process as a fine art photographer and digital artist. Like Dr. Frankenstein, I build visual life from fragments, merging random bits of imagery into something that feels startlingly alive.

My work lives at the intersection of digital art, fine art photography, and abstract expressionism—a kind of Frankensteinian patchwork of consciousness stitched together from colors, textures, and flashes of recognizable imagery. Each piece blends the emotional intensity of painting expressionism with the technical precision of visual art. I collect visual fragments the way a scientist gathers specimens: a cracked sidewalk, a sliver of bark, a mannequin’s hand, a glint of fabric, or reflected light. These overlooked details become the foundation for what I call digital abstraction—works that explore how perception, memory, and subconscious thought fuse within layered imagery.

As a contemporary fine art and mixed media artist, I’m always searching for unusual substrates—the base surfaces that spark transformation. It might be a weathered wall, a pavement crease, or a fabric grid that anchors the composition. I’ve always loved grids, those quiet frameworks that hold chaos in balance. They appear everywhere: in city architecture, in textiles, even in nature’s geometry.

Once I find the substrate, the work turns painterly. I close my eyes and imagine fragments that will populate the space—an arm here, a headpiece there, a passing car, a couple at a bar. I begin layering photographs and digital painting brushstrokes, building a visual art collage of subconscious memory. The process flows between construction and deconstruction—adding, erasing, and morphing until harmony emerges. There’s no fixed plan, only intuition guiding the evolution of form and color.

At a certain point, an inner voice says, “We’re nearly there.” That’s my yellow-light phase—a pause to reflect, to breathe, to make a few final touches. Then the red light appears, signaling completion. No brain surgery, just the rhythm of creation finding its natural end.

Each finished piece is a kind of resurrection: fragments reborn as coherent form. What began as random imagery transforms into a layered visual language that feels inevitable. My artworks exist between digital surrealism, abstract expressionism, and fine art photography, inviting viewers to enter the layered depths of perception and imagination.

As I always remind myself—and those who experience my art—keep your eye on the prize, even if at first it seems shapeless. In time, a white light appears: the moment of revelation when everything aligns. That’s the magic of creation—the transformation of chaos into order, of fragments into life, and of vision into the luminous experience of fine art.