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Strange Horizons Gallery Presents...

Mike Rooth

From my earliest memories I have been making images, and throughout my life I was blessed with wonderful family and friends who always supported and encouraged my craft. I am a graduate of Sheridan College's Interpretive Illustration program, the last class of the 20th century (where I also met the love of my life). A St. Catharines native, I now reside in Oakville, Ontario, Canada where I work as freelance illustrator. My work has appeared in a wide variety of publications, both locally and internationally.

I am always seeking out interesting fantasy assignments, and I cherish every chance I get to create images in this genre. Whether it's a full color book cover, a tiny black and white spot illustration, or a custom fantasy (RPG) portrait, I relish the challenge. I render my work primarily in gouache, but I also experiment with many different digital and traditional mediums. I look forward to whatever the future may hold for me in this wonderful business of doing what I love to do, and I would like to thank Strange Horizons for this -- my first solo gallery showing. Cheers!


Contact Mike Rooth by email.

Uncouth Rooth: Self Portrait ©Mike Rooth 1999

Tour Mike's work, piece by piece. View thumbnails of Mike's work.

If you are interested in submitting art for the gallery, please read our submission guidelines and then contact us at art@strangehorizons.com.


 

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Bio to come.
Current Issue
22 Apr 2024

We’d been on holiday at the Shoon Sea only three days when the incident occurred. Dr. Gar had been staying there a few months for medical research and had urged me and my friend Shooshooey to visit.
...
Tu enfiles longuement la chemise des murs,/ tout comme d’autres le font avec la chemise de la mort.
The little monster was not born like a human child, yelling with cold and terror as he left his mother’s womb. He had come to life little by little, on the high, three-legged bench. When his eyes had opened, they met the eyes of the broad-shouldered sculptor, watching them tenderly.
Le petit monstre n’était pas né comme un enfant des hommes, criant de froid et de terreur au sortir du ventre maternel. Il avait pris vie peu à peu, sur la haute selle à trois pieds, et quand ses yeux s’étaient ouverts, ils avaient rencontré ceux du sculpteur aux larges épaules, qui le regardaient tendrement.
We're delighted to welcome Nat Paterson to the blog, to tell us more about his translation of Léopold Chauveau's story 'The Little Monster'/ 'Le Petit Monstre', which appears in our April 2024 issue.
For a long time now you’ve put on the shirt of the walls,/just as others might put on a shroud.
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