Oleg
Oil on Paper
Something is being held back. The mouth, the eyes, they sit just at the edge of it, without crossing over.
Oleg carries a particular kind of presence: pride worn quietly, emotion kept close. I painted him the way that felt true, in heavy, direct strokes, like something carved rather than brushed. The roughness of the paint and the vulnerability in his face pull against each other, and that tension is what I kept coming back to.
