The Nude is few subjects which are understood by all cultures and societies, throughout the globe, since prehistory. The human body stripped of it covering is not only exposed for the eye to travel it’s flowing landscape of flesh, carved by great canyons and soft, majestic hills; but is also an symbol of freedom.  You are left staring at a bare object. It is as simple and ancient as an animal’s primordial heredity instinct. You are seeing a reflection of the human race.  You are seeing a reflection of yourself. The Nude is a blank canvas.

One primed for the delicate painting of emotion.  

The Nude can powerfully and poignantly express thoughts that ripple back from the time when our ancestors were still living in caves. But the figure is more than that: it is a landscape,  physically and emotionally. It is,  after all, a thought in itself. The figure is more than a still life sitting on a table,  more than a senseless entity. It is probably one of only subjects that we can easily grasp, one filled with all the reaction and response akin to fire, only because it is one of ourselves. They are Real. Like any soul alive at this moment you, or me. They are Human.