Kenistudio

Why I Finally Switched to Artist-Grade Oil Paints Above: The picture of Shabari's face as it appears today.  Below: The picture of Shabari's face on the day I completed painting it 5 years ago.  While lighting may account for some variation, the reduction in depth and richness over time is clearly visible.  For years, I painted almost exclusively with student-grade oil paints that are commonly available in India. I still have a soft corner for them. They were with me through my learning years. I know how they handle. Even today, there are moments when I miss certain colours because they do exactly what I expect them to do. This isn't a post criticizing student-grade paints. Without them, I wouldn't have painted hundreds of hours or reached where I am today. But something happened that slowly changed my mind. A few years ago, I painted Shabari. I remember finishing her face and feeling satisfied with the depth in the skin, the subtle form, the structure of the wrinkles, ...

Bringing the Ocean Indoors (A Large-Scale Seascape) There is something incredibly thrilling about working on a massive canvas. A few years ago, a relative approached me with an exciting challenge: she needed a large, statement-piece seascape to fill a huge, empty wall in her living room. She had a specific reference photo in mind that she absolutely loved, and she wanted me to recreate that scene on a grand scale to completely transform the energy of her home. The Challenge of Reference vs. Artistic Voice When a client or family member hands you an exact reference photo, the job of the artist becomes a delicate balancing act. You want to honor exactly what they envision, but you also want to avoid making a cold, mechanical copy. You have to breathe life into it. For this massive painting, I focused heavily on the energy of the water. The Drama of the Waves Look at the massive, crashing swell in the center. I used sweeping, energetic brushwork to capture the churn of white s...

The transformation of cloth is one of my favourite stages in oil painting. The image on the left is the end of my second pass, where I focus entirely on building the structure. At this stage, I'm not chasing rich colours. Instead, I'm concerned with the folds, the rhythm of the fabric, the direction of the light and the overall form. Once that foundation is in place, the magic begins. The image on the right shows the same cloth brought to life with transparent layers of Transparent Red Iron Oxide by M. Graham & Co. This remarkable pigment allows the underlying structure to remain visible while bathing the fabric in a warm, luminous glow that opaque paint simply cannot achieve. A special thank you to my wonderful sister-in-law, who lovingly brought this tube all the way from the USA for me. Every time I use it, I'm reminded that art is often created not only with brushes and pigments, but also with the love and encouragement of family. ❤️ For the deepest shad...

Vasudeva Carrying Krishna Vasudeva carrying Krishna -Oil on Canvas The birth of Sri Krishna is not merely the arrival of a child into the world. It is the appearance of the Supreme Lord Himself, who descends out of compassion for His devotees and for the protection of dharma. Among the countless souls in creation, how great must be the fortune of Vasudeva and Devaki, who after lifetimes of devotion and tapas were blessed with the opportunity to serve Sri Hari as His earthly parents. Yet even after witnessing the Lord's divine form, their service was not complete. On the night of Krishna's birth, Vasudeva was entrusted with a sacred duty: to carry the infant Lord safely across the flooded Yamuna to Gokula. The river was in spate, the skies were dark, and rain lashed down relentlessly. Yet none of these obstacles could discourage him. When one is given the opportunity to perform seva for Sri Hari Himself, what hardship could possibly seem great? This episode has alway...

From Sketches to Stormy Waters: Painting Vasudeva Carrying Krishna Every painting begins as a collection of possibilities rather than a finished vision. This piece depicts Vasudeva carrying the infant Krishna across the Yamuna while Shesha spreads his hood overhead. While I had the central idea in mind from the beginning, the painting evolved significantly as I worked through each stage. The first stage was devoted to establishing the major shapes and rhythms of the composition. At this point, I wanted to explore the relationship between the towering form of Shesha, the turbulent waters below, and the small yet luminous presence of Krishna at the centre of the story. As the painting developed, the movement of the river became increasingly important. The waves began to take on a life of their own, helping me create the sense of danger and urgency surrounding Vasudeva's journey through the storm. The next major step was introducing the figures themselves. Once...

Some paintings stay in the studio for years. Others find a home almost immediately. This small painting of Goddess Durga was created on an 8" × 6" wooden panel. The surface was first prepared with gesso and then painted by hand using oil paints. Though modest in size, I wanted it to capture the strength, grace, and benevolent presence traditionally associated with the Goddess. The dark background allows the face and ornaments to emerge with a quiet luminosity. Rather than focusing on realism, I was drawn to a more decorative and devotional approach. The large expressive eyes, bright colors, and ornamental details were inspired by the folk and traditional images of Durga that have always fascinated me. There is something special about painting on wood. The rigid surface feels very different from canvas, and the texture of the panel subtly influences every brushstroke. For a small devotional work like this, the wooden support seemed particularly appropriate. This pa...

Capturing the Guarded Glare: Motherhood in the Wild There is an old saying that the most dangerous place in the world is between a mother bear and her cubs. The same is infinitely true for a tigress. Today, I wanted to visit the magnificent big cats through my primary medium, oils and talk about a very specific emotional tone I was desperate to capture on canvas: the calm graceful threat. The Anatomy of a Warning When you look at a predator protecting its young, they don't always bare their teeth or roar. Sometimes, the most terrifying warning is completely silent. It’s a presence. That is exactly what drew me to this composition. The Stare. The focal point of the entire painting is the mother's eyes. I spent a long time getting the exact tilt of her brow and the piercing, golden glow of her pupils. It is an expression that smoothly communicates absolute grace, but carries an unmistakable underlying message: Do not mess with me or my cub. The Shield Notice the physi...

Whenever I listen to the stories of Krishna's childhood, I find myself thinking about Yashoda.  How fortunate she was! We listen to the bala lilas of Krishna and consider ourselves fortunate, but she experienced it firsthand. She saw the stolen butter, listened to the complaints of the gopis, fed him milk from her own bosom while He looked deep into her eyes. And we are waiting for lifetimes to even get a knowing glimpse of kindness from Him. The scriptures tell us that such fortune did not come easily. Yashoda and Nanda performed great tapas over many lifetimes before receiving the opportunity to raise Krishna as their own child. Yet Krishna gives all of us a way to understand a small part of that blessing in the form of our children. When we care for children with this understanding, ordinary acts become sacred. Preparing a meal, listening patiently, comforting tears, answering endless questions, cleaning up messes, and sharing in their joys and sorrows all become opportunities f...

Commission Spotlight: Capturing Baby Prisha (A 2-Day Race Against Time) Every commission brings its own unique set of parameters, but every now and then, a project arrives with a deadline that tests your absolute limits. Some time ago, I was commissioned to paint a portrait of a beautiful four-month-old baby girl named Prisha. The catch? I had a total of just ten days to complete the project—and four of those days had to be reserved strictly for shipping. With only six days left to actually create the artwork, my go-to medium, oil paint, was completely off the table. Oils simply take too long to dry and cure before they can be safely packed and shipped. To make this happen, I had to step outside my comfort zone and reach for a medium I rarely touch: acrylics. Stripping It Down to the Primaries Because I rarely paint in acrylics, I don’t keep a massive array of tubes in my studio. In fact, I had exactly four colors available to me: * Titanium White * Crimson Lake * Lemon ...

At the Edge of the World: A Study in Stone and Devotion. A few years ago, I pulled out a sheet of oil paper for a project that started with a very specific, grounded obsession of rocks.  As landscape and narrative painters, we often get caught up in fluid elements like moving water, soft clouds, or dramatic fabrics. But there is a unique, architectural beauty in stone. I found myself deeply drawn to a composition that relied entirely on heavy structures, sharp vantage points, and rugged textures. The Focus and the Narrative Because the stone was the true anchor for Rama, I kept the surrounding elements incredibly minimal. You’ll notice the sky is remarkably clear and flat, stripped of my usual moody, rolling storm clouds. I intentionally dialed back the atmosphere because I wanted nothing to distract from the two subjects with the similar context. Rama and Rocks. I spent a massive amount of time working on the geometric layering of the crags. By using deep, velvety dark...

Bala Krishna on a small canvas Sometimes the smallest paintings carry the most personal stories. This little Krishna portrait measures just 10" × 7" and was painted directly onto the wooden backing of an old frame. Rather than stretching canvas or preparing a separate panel, I applied gesso to the backboard, creating a smooth painting surface. Once the painting was complete and dry, it simply slipped back into its frame, becoming both artwork and finished presentation in a single object. The reference for this painting came from an unexpected place—a photograph of my daughter taken during my sister's wedding. There was something about the expression in that photograph: the softness of the eyes, the slight smile, the innocence and quiet confidence. As I worked, those qualities naturally found their way into the image of Krishna. I wasn't trying to create a strict portrait or a highly detailed devotional image. Instead, I wanted to capture a feeling—the gent...