Emotive painting
400 creative works found
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The sound of birds early in the morning. Best music of all… Oil on Stretched Canvas – No Airbrushing 37 X 42 inches / 94 X 1107 cm Original : / $3000 AU – excluding p&p from Melbourne, Australia / contact my Agents at Gallery 112 / ....................................................................................
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www.JamesMillerDIGITAL.com
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Here’s another portrait of my favourite little muse…
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Mixed Medium On Canvas
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Click on the image below to see the entire artwork / Excerpt Two is a detailed section of the original painting “Finches On Parade” . Which is about the communal abstract chatter that one encounters when in amongst a crowd of like-minded personalities. / I have chosen not to emphasize the precise detail of each bird but rather their general shape as they caper around, to give the impression of constant movement. Oil on Stretched Canvas – No Airbrushing Original : / refer to See The Entire Artwork link above / contact my Agents at Gallery 112 / .........................................................................................
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Mixed Medium on canvas… approx A3 in size. Hi everyone, I did this, this afternoon, it took me an hour, exploring with mixed medium. Inspired by Billylee and her print making… so incorporated some printing, water colour, collage and inks… Probably something I should varnish… but if it’s framed behind glass not sure if I’ll risk it. Have no idea what it should be titled so maybe you can help me … I have been part of RB since mid October and never had a work on the featured pages… could this be it? Looking forward to your comments and feedback, I know it’s not my usual style, but / hopefully someone out there likes it!
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André’s creation: eclectic pleasures
by Maxwell EdwardBlack and white keys, saxophone, guitar, everywhere. The music has much more magnificence than can be tried to be explained through words…
Black and white keys, saxophone, guitar, everywhere. The music has much more magnificence than can be tried to be explained through words. This jazzy rendezvous has always been André’s favourite ear-food. He just loves the way its beauty, splendour, radiance is ‘unleashed’. André stares at the canvas for over a dozen times. Here he is staring at the blank space which is future marvel…or was it to be past marvel? Had he missed his chance, missed the boat which would have sailed to sentimental stardom? He refuses to collaborate more than a sentence for any one idea. Any idea that deserves a sentence must deserve no doubt. Any canvas is only worth the greatest ideas. Two André’s exist; though only one at any one time. The withdrawn analytical front, designed for most occasions. On rare occasions the other character may appear, the intensive, massively determined André who acts on impulses. Impulsive André must be begged out. A Pandora’s Box of surprises, his job will at least never cease to astonish. “Dearest André, Through years have you befriended my son Louis, so therefore I am offering an opportunity to benefit both of our interests (with intent towards your gain). Litton inc., my company has stepped up towards mainstream success. We require visual arts for our newly bought edifice. I understand you have been painting for the eight years since high school. To your discretion I would like to require a painting; just one will suffice. I would like something vibrant and colourful, yet deep and meaningful; Contemporise to your own vision. Much thanks, Dr. Raymond Fonck.” The commissioned paper lies stuck on the wall. André has read it. Now it is time for the future. It has been too long sitting around (or rather bouncing around); too get too much productivity from anything. Someone once said to him that anything is good experience. True perhaps, although he prefers productivity, especially in a time of intensity such as this; three days left until confrontation. His vigilant eyes stroll around the room, searching for advice. He is not bored, nor has he painters block, for such a term does not exist and will not ever for him. His eyes strike the clock. The clock glares 5:48 pm back. What a disgusting fierce look it has. Not 5:45, nor 6:00 and only one uncomfortable minute in-between. For at this time these uncomforting three digits add to the frustration in the actual time. “Aw!” André suddenly realizes the importance of the time. It is the one factor which never seems to be on his side but actually encourages his total progress. It is an epiphany like that of a mother to the newborn. André decides to let his hands take / control. They are the secret key, (sometimes the gatekeepers of unleashing impulsive André) His dominant left one picks up the brush (over time it has made up for its fault of statistically losing him seven years). His right hand decides to lose cognition. It dips itself into a little puddle of Sangria oil paint muck. Than it flies onto the near-centre of the canvas, smeared diagonally. His left hand takes initiative once again, waving lines of smudge to and fro. Right hand brings more paint to its destination. Myrtle, Indigo, Olive, Magnolia…and no, not that…Yes, yes, even black! (Well seal brown to be precise). All of these contextually beautiful colours unleashed! There are no thoughts in André’s mind now. This is impulsive André now; organised thought is of little importance! That colour is important here. This colour is unimportant there. A few lines of any colour are important right here or there, but perhaps a darker colour is better. More negative space up and down the edges. Shape is forming. Lines are bolding. Complete non-representational form is diminishing. Visualizations; the visualized images in mind are being…unloaded bit by bit. It is coming about. What is it though? No one knows. If anybody could guess it definitely would not be André. André knows he has the power to bring out the reality in it though. In a seemingly paradox situation he must not connect to reality at the moment though. Now, after these hours of painting, André is in the painting. He would not know it has been hours besides the constant glare of the illuminating digital clock staring from across the room; it unconsciously processes its recognition into André. The phone screams out, ‘br-ring, br-ring!’ Like the other external matter it creeps into André, until finally its screams become too annoying to ignore. It’s too late now…impulsive André has vanished; his conventional counterpart has replaced him. The phone persists though. André decides to take it (typical for his returned mannerism). He dives across the room horizontally attacking the corner where that nuisance phone lies. ‘Aw, aw, aw, aw!’ A tube of paint has squirt from underneath his stomach. Agonising that his material friend can be so painful at times (like any of his life long friends). He picks up the phone; only the tone. He has missed whatever, whoever it was. Once again, missing the boat… Now thought and all that comes with it has returned. Why now out of all times possible? There is only sadness, misery, all this escalated from these small miniscule misfortunes; all has turned to turmoil! What can one do, when feeling like crawling into a hole? His secret minor disorders such as his claustrophobia would prevent him from crawling into that hole, even if he had one. At the moment everything feels like one big hole. Not surprisingly André’s eyes begin doing the only thing they know to do in times of unrest; wander. It is impossible to ignore what is there; it has been there all along, yet has never been seen. It is beautiful! It is splendour! It is radiance!! It is interrupted by another scream of ‘br-ring br-ring’. André picks up the damn phone. Without contemplation he whispers, “Sir, madam, I’m very terribly busy, could you perhaps call back sometime?” A deep sophisticated voice replies, “Raymond Fonck, André. Listen, I need to know about the progress of the painting. How is it going; ready to sell on Friday?” Many emotions garner at the speed of light inside André allows these emotions to clash inside of him. The painting; it is beautiful, splendour, radiance! How could he give it away now, after an indescribable series of emotional contributions? It is something that has not been attempted before; yet it is new but the expression of old. It is everything, at the moment, hopefully containing more interpretive inoculations for the future. It is a subject, of just some time, yet it contains a collaboration of detail separated from time. It is…once again interrupted by screams, this time of another sort; the infuriating talking of man. “André. Are you there?” Feelings of great rebellion sweep André off his feet. He knows how he will revolutionize his life, because after all; this painting has revolutionized his thought already. “Mister Fonck. I am so sorry. Some things have come over me…a type of sickness…although I am sure you are not aware of this mad syndrome I am suffering due to it. Well to the point, I must say I will not be supplying you with your wanted artwork. Thank you for your understanding. Hopefully we can collaborate something in future.” André hangs the phone up without replies, without a stated understanding from the mister Fonck. Without even the knowledge of acceptance or approval from the mister Fonck…it does not matter. All that matters is this new painting, this contemporised vision. It is everything. Most importantly of all, it is…unleashed!
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Taken in the bush near Alice Springs. Waiting for the sun to come up and saw this dead tree and just had to take a shot with all the colours behind it.
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A Painting by : Shree & Ami(my wife) / Wonderful Words by : Sally Omar Well this is a moment of a poor family waiting desperately together for their father who has still not returned after whole days work, where one kid is elder sister and standing behind another is younger son waiting and being impatient about their fathers uncertain returning issue back to their house. I specifically wanted to show their love, bond, respect, intimacy, curiocity, closeness, affection, feeling of insecurity, fear and a sense of worriedness, impatience and all sorts of wieard thoughts going on specially in the mind of the mother who desperately wants her husband to return back to home soon as its already too late and as both the children are hungry along with her, all of them waiting for their dad to acompany them at whatever food they have left with. Being mother of two little kids she cannot cry or show her sense of worry infront of kids but still she is infact so upset, so tensed and so curious for finding the reasons about not returning back of her husband till so late which she reflects throught her eyes and facial expressions along with managing her kids by giving them assurance that he will comeback soon. My wife Ami helped me a lot specially for bringing those waiting expressions on the face for which i will always be grateful to her unmatched artistic skills. / All the artwork is given a sepia tone with charcoal to show the feel of my theme desperate – await, which i think goes well with the moment of impatience…enjoy. And lastly a special thanks to Sally who did a marvellous job within no time giving a touch of liveliness to these waiting family with her wonderful words. A MOTHER WAITS IN DESPERATION / HER FAMILY IS VERY POOR / THERE IS VERY LITTLE TO EAT / WISHES THERE WAS MORE / SHE AND CHILDREN ARE HUNGRY / AS THEY WAIT / HE IS ALWAYS HOME ON TIME / TODAY HE IS LATE / WAITING WITH HER CHILDREN BY THE WINDOW / TO HIM HER THOUGHTS ARE SENT / SHE KEEPS WAITING / AND SHE LAMENTS WHERE IS MY HUSBAND….WHERE CAN HE BE / HE IS NEVER SO LATE / THE CHILDREN ARE HUNGRY / BUT WE MUST WAIT / THE FOOD IS SCARCE / NOT MUCH TO EAT / WHEN HE COMES HOME / WE WILL KISS AND GREET / I AM REALLY NERVOUS / I HOPE EVERYTHING IS GOOD / I WORRY EACH DAY / AS A WIFE SHOULD I MUST BE STRONG / I CANNOT LET MY CHILDREN SEE / HOW WORRIED I AM / WHERE CAN HE BE / HE’S NOT BEEN ACTING / LIKE EVERYTHING IS ALL RIGHT / I JUST PRAY / HE COMES HOME TONIGHT WE LOVE HIM SO MUCH / AND SEE HIM EACH DAY SO TIRED / THERE ARE TIMES HE COMES HOME / SO VERY WIRED / SOMETIMES HE’S ANGRY / AND I DON’T KNOW WHY / BUT I HOLD IN MY TEARS / I NEVER CRY MUM WHERE IS DAD / I’M REALLY HUNGRY / WE KEEP WAITING / WHERE CAN HE BE / DO YOU THINK HE STOPPED / AT THE STORE / TO BUY KHREE WE LIKE SO MUCH / LIKE HE DID BEFORE / THAT WOULD BE SO GOOD / WE LOVE WHEN WE GET SWEETS / DADDY LOVES US / SOMETIMES HE BUYS US TREATS MUM MY STOMACH / FEELS LIKE THERE IS A HOLE / I AM HUNGRY / AND FEEL OUT OF CONTROL / I WANT TO CRY / WHERE IS DAD / DO YOU THINK HE WILL COME HOME / DID I MAKE HIM MAD / DOES HE KNOW I LOVE HIM / DID I MAKE HIM SAD CHILDREN DON’T WORRY / MAYBE HE WORKED A LITTLE LATE / WE ARE STRONG / WE CAN WAIT / ALTHOUGH WE ARE HUNGRY / LET’S SAY A PRAYER / CLOSE YOUR EYES / AND HE WILL SOON BE HERE SILENTLY TO GOD SHE PRAYS / SO HER CHILDREN CAN’T HEAR / TO SEND HER HUSBAND SOON / SHE IS NOW LIVING IN FEAR / HER THOUGHTS ARE GOING WILD / WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF HE NEVER RETURNED / HER HEART IS HEAVY / HER SOUL IS BURNING KNOWING THAT HE LOVES THEM / AND THERE IS A TRUE BOND / SHE IS TERRIFIED / THAT HE HAS BEEN HARMED / SHAKING HER HEAD / SHE PRAYS WITH ALL HER HEART / THAT HE COME HOME / SHE AND HER CHILDREN ARE DESPERATE /
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Mixed Mediums on Canvas.
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Minimalist abstract study of speeding cyclists, focusing more on the dynamics of the speed and motion of their movements / Oil on Stretched Canvas – No Airbrushing 37 X 59 inches / 94 X 150 cm Original : / $2500 AU – excluding p&p from Melbourne, Australia / contact my Agents at Gallery 112 / .....................................................................................
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oil on canvas
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“It is easy to love the people far away. It is not always easy to love those close to us. It is easier to give a cup of rice to relieve hunger than to relieve the loneliness and pain of someone unloved in our own home. Bring love into your home for this is where our love for each other must start.” / Mother Teresa
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I have tried to keep the butterfly and its shadow to scale to give the impression of a real butterfly about to land on someone’s T-shirt
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Often those we believe we are closest too are no more than strangers in our lives. Acrylic On Canvas. Original Painting is 110cm x 110cm. / Painted 13.10.2007
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oil on stretched canvas, 60×90 cm there are moments when you feel like you just want to curl up and hide… original is for sale, contact me via bubblemail or email (adress on profile page)
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. . . I finally did it. / The most addictive substance on earth Oil on Stretched Canvas – No Airbrushing 48 X 48 inches / 122 X 122 cm Original : / Sold / contact my Agents at Gallery 112 / ......................................................................................
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Ive never tried something like this before. Never an artwork emotionally so intense. Would love to thank sandra baraci for the wonderful collab. She has been painting the stunning image of `tracie76 portrait for a while now, which she abandoned in the middle. I really wanted to complete it in my form, and I did. / She says she found the motivation back again to finish the canvas, which is an honour . Thankyou both of you for the wonderful experience.
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Pastel On Board – Approximate size 65×45 cm. 12.12.2007 Dabbling with pastels again… wow, alot more challenging than paint! Oops, I just remembered, this is the finished version of ‘untitled’ which has been loitering my pages for the past two weeks. Below is the previous unfinished work which received overwhelming support – thought I would post it for those of you who wanted to compare or couldn’t remember… /
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Minimalist Landscape study of the Trees & Hills as they are seen far off out on the horizon Oil on Stretched Canvas – No Airbrushing 36 X 66 inches / 92 X 168 cm Original : / $1500 AU – excluding p&p from Melbourne, Australia / contact my Agents at Gallery 112 / .............................................................................................
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Click on the image below to see the entire artwork / Excerpt One is a detailed section of the original painting “Finches On Parade” . Which is about the communal abstract chatter that one encounters when in amongst a crowd of like-minded personalities. / I have chosen not to emphasize the precise detail of each bird but rather their general shape as they caper around, to give the impression of constant movement. Oil on Stretched Canvas – No Airbrushing Original : / refer to See The Entire Artwork link above / contact my Agents at Gallery 112 / ...................................................................................
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This painting is yet another example of why I think it’s better that I stick to the illustrations and leave the “fine arts” to others. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think it’s worse than a Jonas Brothers album or anything, but…well…it is what it is.
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Prints are available for all my artworks!
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