Realist Traditional Art

Afternoon sun light bright up on your monsoon running around.
Oh your right shoe waiting for its left to come back home.
With your velvet dreams drenched in silky rain, froze in same drops of water fo…

I always start an oil portrait with an accurate pencil drawing applied directly to the canvas or panel. In this case I am using an HB pencil on a stretched linen canvas of 12 × 10 inches.

And then begins the heated dance
of advance retreat ensnare escape

‘’Oh is God in the house’’ we ask

You tell me your God’s better than mine
then you use his name in hate

I love Pakistan and loving people of it, We had great love for eachother and I would visit him to have a lunch together…. so loving.

Sunil Sharma – sunil-c-sharma@hotmail.com

I would also like to invite to visit me at zazzle.com…there are some other RB’s over there to…have a look at the fan club and visit there amazing Gallery’s

The apocalyptic crunch approaches!
Our climate will tease and destroy us
Till we are no more.

Riches and poverty
spotlessly filled with filth

IF ANYONES BEEN INVITED TO ANY SITE

Always Always Always read the terms and conditions.

Sitting quietly smoking,
Sipping steaming coffee,
Across from a silent companion,
With such a simple stern stature.
His seniority signified in silver streaked hair.
The oppression of times’ toils is…

The traditionally composed paintings of flowers and Greek icons, express the peace, relaxation, and spirituality I connect with the act of painting. Rendering oil-on-canvas floral subjects in hues re…

Don’t you hate it when the best opportunities come at the most inopportune times?

“Discover a fulfillment of a beating heart that seeks and drinks sex”

Narin

Leave me speechless,

Under crying flowers,

That only grows under my grave.

I am hurt, so burnt under no fire,

Sometimes I want to leave silently,

To a world without ears, no eyes

And no soul undernea…

My pastel “Hello, Goodbye” is a finalist in the book, “In the Moment” published by Redbubble.

Autumn scents hang in the air
Cool crisp mornings, days are fair.
Tumbling leaves of red and gold,
Orange, amber, brown unfold.
Piles of faded beauty smoulder,
Days are perfect, nights now colder.
Charred …

If you don’t know where you are going,
You are wasted.
If you don’t know what you want to be,
You are wasted.
If you don’t know what is going on,
You are wasted.
If you don’t even know what to do,
You are w…