Artist Armor

Knightly, the protector of the art realm, fights a dastardly foe - Dupli-kate who breaks into gallery and right clicks to duplicate the art to sell on cheap mugs. But she keeps duplicating, and Knightly finds that he has to resort to drastic means

You’re a photographer who has made a name in event photography. Your technique and direction brings out the best in people, and your prowess with a camera captures it. 

But the event venue that hired you to take some photos for an event, used them for their corporate identity without your permission, payment, or credit. They appear on their website, their brochures, and even their television commercials. 

This is grounds for a lawsuit. Fortunately you were contacted through Artist Armor and the terms of your contract were documented. The company is using your work in a way not agreed upon and your lawsuit is an open and shut case. It shouldn’t have happened to begin with, but since it did, you are protected. 

Artist Armor doesn’t protect just artists, it protects everyone. 

Most art jobs are locked behind gatekeepers. You need experience to get hired… but you can’t get experience without being hired. So you apply. Wait. Get rejected. Meanwhile, your art just sits there… not making you anything.

Here’s what nobody tells you: You don’t need permission to make money with your art anymore. You need a platform that actually works for you.

Here’s where Artist Armor comes in. Instead of chasing jobs— you build your own. Upload your work. Protect it from theft. Control how it’s shared. And actually turn views into sales.

No gatekeepers. No waiting. No middleman taking control of your future.

With Artist Armor, you’re not just posting art… You’re building an asset. A business. A career on your terms.

For decades, creators knocked on your doors, pitched you in elevators, and waited forever on hold. Writers queried your office, and mailed you scripts and waited months without a word. Musicians sent expensive demo tapes, invited you to showcases, then were met with silence. Artists filled sketchbooks, and portfolios that never reached anyone important.

You told us there were rules.

We needed the right connections. The right network. The right school. We needed to live in the right city, find the right introductions. Secure the right money. Most of all, that we needed your permission.

So millions of creators stopped before they even started.

But something changed.

The tools have freed the flow of creativity. Today a writer can draft a film from a bedroom. A musician can build an orchestra on a laptop. An animator can create worlds without a million-dollar pipeline. And ideas no longer have to wait in front of closed doors and in dark hallways. They go directly into the world. The gatekeepers no longer control the creative economy. This doesn’t mean creativity is easier. It means our access is wider.

It means the next great filmmaker might never attend a $100,000 film school or the next great illustrator might never see their work in gallery. The next great song might be the result of someone working late at night on a tablet.

So this isn’t a goodbye. It’s just the end of us asking for your permission.

Sincerely,