Surreal Visions
Step beyond the real and into the imagined.
Each image is a hand-crafted story pulled from my dreams, fears, and deepest visual emotions, just mind-born creation.
Available as limited-edition prints for those who feel the pull of the surreal.
If you’d like to own one of these images as a fine art print, I’d love to hear from you.
Please contact me for sizes, pricing, and custom options.
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“Silenced”
A tribute to the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women whose stories live in the trees, the wind, the soil.
The red dress is not empty—it holds the memory, the power, and the unbroken spirit of those taken too soon.
This image stands in witness. In mourning. In rage. In hope.
#MMIW #NoMoreStolenSisters #VisionsOfHeavenPhotography
“House Warming”
by Heather Fryer, VOH Photography
The listing said: “Fixer-upper with character. Remote location. Great for quiet neighbors.”
They were sold before sunset.
The UFOs landed right on time, and the new owners arrived glowing with excitement—literally.
They loved the layout, the "earthy" smells, and especially the green light in the hallway (perfect for photosynthesis).
By dusk, the welcome party was in full swing.
Telepathic playlists. Zero-gravity snacks. A probe or two for tradition’s sake.
It wasn’t just a house.
It was home.
"Marooned"
by Heather Fryer, VOH Photography
The transmission was silent. The engines, colder than the twin moons overhead.
He’d survived the crash. That much was clear.
But survival wasn’t the same as being saved.
Now he walks—one shadow in a sea of dust—
searching the horizon for movement,
a shimmer,
a sound,
anything.
The stars he came from are a memory.
The planet below?
Unmapped. Unforgiving.
And yet… he keeps walking.
Because something inside him still believes
someone
is listening.
“The Last Lightkeeper”
by Heather Fryer, VOH Photography
They told her dragons were only legend.
But she knew better.
At the edge of the world, where light meets mist,
she reached out—
and he came.
No words.
Just knowing.
Just trust.
In that touch, she became the Lightkeeper.
And the skies remembered their fire.
“May the 4th Be With You”
Every year on May 4th, I challenge myself to create a Star Wars–inspired image.
This year, I brought the Mandalorian to life—wandering the sands of a distant world, ship grounded behind him, mission unknown.
It’s a day I always look forward to—where creativity meets childhood wonder.
I hope you enjoy this fun tribute as much as I enjoyed making it.
—Heather Fryer, VOH Photography
"Jump to Light"
Every bolt. Every scar on the hull.
This ship has seen battles, betrayals, rescues, and rebellions.
It’s more than metal—it’s memory. Legacy.
Drifting in the silence of space, then suddenly—
ignition.
A blast of blue.
Gone in a heartbeat.
There’s something timeless about the moment a ship breaks free.
It’s not just about escaping gravity—
It’s about chasing destiny.
—Heather Fryer, VOH Photography
May the 4th Be With You
“Where the Bottom Disappears”
A Primal Fear Story
The ocean always felt too big for me.
Out there, in a floaty that looked like safety, I was small—
a speck beneath a painted sky, birds overhead,
but nothing below but dark.
The water shimmered gold on the surface,
but just beneath it, silence thickened.
Jellyfish drifted like ghost memories.
And deeper still… something moved.
I’ve never trusted the deep.
The idea that something with teeth could rise without warning,
that I’d never see it until it was too late.
The fear isn’t just of what’s below—
It’s the not knowing.
The weight of water.
The way sound disappears.
How even light is swallowed.
If my feet can touch the bottom, I feel grounded.
But when there’s no bottom…
Just pressure, darkness, and that ancient quiet—
That’s when my fear begins to speak.
—Heather Fryer, VOH Photography
“Bigger Than Me”
A Primal Fear Story
As a child, I feared the cellar most.
That heavy wooden door beneath the house… the way it creaked open like it didn’t want to.
Steps swallowed by shadow.
Air thick with damp earth and silence.
I had to go down there—alone.
I would reach for the string to turn on the light, but my hand…
my hand always found webs first.
Sticky. Cold.
Alive.
The spiders were never small in my mind.
They were giants—black shadows skittering in the corners, watching.
Their webs blanketed the air.
They waited for me in the dark, just beyond where the light could reach.
They still do.
Every shadowed corner, every forgotten attic, every dream I try to outrun—
They are always bigger than me.
—Heather Fryer, VOH Photography
“Losing My Marbles”
A Primal Fear Story
The board is life—bright squares of order and chaos.
Each marble, a moment. A memory. A name.
Some roll steady, others slip off the edge, vanishing into the deep.
Below, the roots stretch—gnarled and tangled.
Family ties. Unspoken history.
The parts of me I forget… until they pull.
Above, an hourglass bleeds time.
Grains fall, unrelenting.
The sun still shines, but lightning splits the sky—memories I can’t hold back, storms I can’t ignore.
They’re invading.
Left and right. Mind and heart.
This is how it feels—
Trying to hold onto what’s mine as the board tilts.
As marbles fall.
As the light of remembrance flickers... and fades.
—Heather Fryer, VOH Photography
"The Wishing Well"
A Primal Fear Story
In the light, the world feels safe. The sun is warm, the grass soft, the well just an old stone relic from childhood stories. But when I lean over and look down, everything changes.
That oily reflection—it doesn’t show my face. It shifts, like something watching from below.
I’ve always feared what I can’t see. The dark. The deep. The feeling that something ancient stirs at the bottom, waiting. The rope creaks, the bucket lowers, but I never stay to see if it comes back up.
Above is peace. Below is the unknown.
And what if, one day, the well answers your wish... but not the way you hoped?
— Heather Fryer, VOH Photography