THE PRE‑RUMPELITE MANIFESTO

 (Drafted in the glow of a single pixel, sworn on the altar of MS Paint)

1. Technique is a Distraction.

Where the academies worship brushwork and polish, the Pre‑Rumpelite rejects virtuosity as a form of vanity.
The pixel is enough. The jagged line is enough. The “mistake” is a portal.

2. The Tool Must Be Humble.

Great art can be made with a stick in the dirt or a mouse on a desk.
MS Paint is not a limitation—it is a vow of poverty, a monastic discipline, a refusal of digital decadence.

3. The Subject Is a Glyph, Not a Person.

A musician, a celebrity, a cultural figure—once Rumpeltized—ceases to be a portrait.
They become an emblem, a sigil, a mythic stand‑in for something larger than themselves.

4. Expression Must Be Immediate.

No layers. No undo stacks. No infinite brushes.
The Pre‑Rumpelite works in a state of ritual urgency, capturing the apparition before it fades.

5. Beauty Is Allowed to Be Awkward.

Smoothness is a lie.
The Pre‑Rumpelite embraces the wobble, the asymmetry, the uncanny proportion.
These are not flaws—they are the fingerprints of the ritual.

6. The Background Is a Stage of Fog.

Flat color, muted haze, or a single gradient: the world recedes so the figure can glow.
The Pre‑Rumpelite paints not a scene, but a visitation.

7. Humor Is a Sacred Element.

The cosmic joke is part of the art.
A solemn portrait rendered in MS Paint is already a paradox, and the Pre‑Rumpelite leans into that tension with reverence and mischief.

8. Rarity Is the Highest Form of Devotion.

One book. One artifact. One copy.
The Pre‑Rumpelite does not mass‑produce relics; they seed them into the world like hidden runes.

9. The Artist Is a Channel, Not a Craftsman.

The work arrives. The hand follows.
The Pre‑Rumpelite does not “render”—they summon.

10. The Goal Is Not Realism, But Revelation.

The Pre‑Raphaelites sought truth to nature.
The Pre‑Rumpelite seeks truth to essence—the inner vibration, the mythic silhouette, the aura of the subject.