Kismine Varner Nude Paintings

Nude with Silks by Andre Belichenko ( Russian) Andrei Belichenko was born in 1974 in Karaganda, Kazakhstan. He is a graduate of the Republican Art Schoo (1990). Andrei studied in t...

In this oil creation, I've depicted a scene resonating with tales of old, channeling an ageless vitality with every stroke. The vivid colors and contrasting textures embody a bold sp...

I saw this painting in the spring in the blooming steppe. Working on it, I splashed a whole carnival of bright acrylic shades on paper, allowing emotions to guide every curl and mo...

The painting depicts a naked woman lying on her back, covered with a light veil. The main object is a naked girl. Her body is depicted with realistic anatomical accuracy. The figure ...

In this piece, I've portrayed a deeply human experience, imbuing the canvas with the vulnerable essence of rest and introspection. Using oil on paper, I've masterfully captured a mom...

Lady with Books 1 Original painting. size 39x23in / 100x60cm . Comes with a certificate of authenticity. Shipped stretched, as it is, ready for hanging and framed, from Florida, US....

In the evocative stillness of "Whispers of Ancestry," the latest painting in my "Thoughts" series, I present a young woman seated, her knees drawn up to her chest in a gesture of contemplation and self-protection. Her bare form speaks not just of vulnerability but of the raw canvas of humanity, unshielded and sincere. This image captures a moment of introspection, where the silence around her is rich with the echoes of ancestral wisdom. The apple trees, heavy with crimson fruit, bend towards her as if to share the stories and lessons imbued by generations past. Their red apples are like whispers of knowledge, symbols of the life force passed down through time, offering both sustenance and reflection. The woman's dreamy gaze suggests she is not just recalling her own experiences but also accessing the collective memory and spirit of her lineage. In this piece, the apple trees serve as a bridge between the present and the whispers of history, reminding us that we are forever rooted in the stories of those who came before us. "Whispers of Ancestry" is a homage to the continuum of life, an artistic meditation on the interconnectedness of our individual journeys with the enduring legacy of our forebears. It is an invitation to the viewer to listen to the whispers of their own heritage and to find strength in the shared wisdom that has weathered the passage of time. ABOUT ARTIST: Tetiana Pchelnykova...

The artwork features a seated nude figure in a graceful and expressive pose, elegantly perched on a sheer, fabric-like platform or pedestal. One hand gently holds a circular hoop tha...

Nude In Lavender NOT framed Neo Cubism About the Artist: Kenneth B Walsh (1922-1980) In the 1950s, Kenneth Bonar Walsh came to Montauk from New York City to paint seascapes, catch ...

In this oil on paper creation, I've delved deep into the essence of freedom and vulnerability. I've depicted the raw, natural beauty of the human form intertwined with ethereal grace...

In my creation, I captured a moment of introspective tranquility, using oils to weave a tapestry of serene colors and delicate shades. Each stroke on the paper is a verse in a poem o...

Remembrance of Things Past NOT framed Neo Cubism About the Artist: Kenneth B Walsh (1922-1980) In the 1950s, Kenneth Bonar Walsh came to Montauk from New York City to paint seascapes, catch fish, sing of Nature's beauty, put down roots, and, later, develop a style of painting all his own. The Boston native moved to New York after attending the School of Practical Art on the G.I. Bill, where he began his career in the art department of Lever Brothers. But he had bigger dreams, and soon established the Bonart Studio, a commercial art business. RCA Records, the Ideal and Transogram toy companies, and the Schrafft’s candy and chocolate company were among the studio’s clients. The business a success, he began to take vacations. He liked Montauk so much that he built a house in Hither Hills...