OIL PAINTINGS
I turned to oil painting because I wanted my work to feel monumental—like something you’d find in a museum, radiating depth, weight, and timelessness. With oils, I can achieve a level of realism that feels almost supernatural, even when exploring metaphysical or surreal themes that defy language.
As a self-taught artist, I’ve spent years refining my technique, deeply inspired by the Old Masters. Most of my paintings begin with a grisaille underpainting—a monochromatic study of form and contrast. From there, I build layer upon layer using transparent glazes, allowing light to pass through and breathe life into the image. This meticulous process creates a luminous, dimensional quality that no other medium can replicate.
In some works, I take it even further, sculpting the surface with texture—so that light and shadow don’t just appear on the painting, but within it. These subtleties—the way light shifts through the layers, the physical presence of the paint—can only be fully experienced in person. Each piece becomes an immersive event, pulling the viewer into its world.
This gallery brings together my most intricate and emotionally charged oil paintings. Every canvas is a labor of time, discipline, and vision. And this is just the beginning. I’m now entering a new phase—bringing to life ideas I’ve been dreaming about for years, visions that are only now becoming possible as my skills evolve. What’s coming next will be unlike anything I’ve done before—works that push the boundaries of what oil painting can express. Stay tuned.
For inquiries about the price or availability of original paintings, please visit the Store or reach out via the Contact page. Fine art prints are available for selected works.

This is my representation of the 17th century Greek icon. It is the only icon of Virgin Mary where she is gently holding the crucifixion instead of being pictured with Jesus as a child.
For me the original greek name of this icon «Παναγία του Χάρου» which means “Virgin Mary of Charon” is very interesting since it shows how the old greek pagan tradition resonates with early Christianity of the times of the Byzantine Empire. Here Jesus is compared to the Greek mythological character Charon who is a psychopomp, the ferryman of the Greek underworld. He carries the souls of those who have been given funeral rites across the rivers Acheron and Styx, which separate the worlds of the living and the dead. Jesus inherits the psychopomp role which in greek tradition was not to judge but to guide the deceased and Jesus leads them to heaven.
The Virgin Mary facing her crucified son is revealing the peace she found with her invincible faith in God and trust in his plan, so the crucifix symbolizes the everlasting hope for salvation, gaining eternal life, resurrection and victory over death.
The victory over death is manifested also by the lilies on the icon. In the 1940s one woman was praying in front of this icon and got healed. In gratitude she left lilies on the icon. After these lilies withered they came back to life in a year and started blooming again. Since then every year people on island Leipsoi in Greece where the original of this icon is located witness the “miracle with lilies”.
This is not the first time this icon occurs on my mind, my first attempt to paint it was in 2007 when I was 14. For some reason I have been always fascinated with this particular imaging of the Virgin Mary and Jesus Christ and maybe one day my skills will match the feelings.

This painting is the Triple Goddess Hecate, which is revered in three forms - "Virgin", "Mother" and "Crone".
This corresponds to the three stages of a woman's life and three phases of the Moon: The New Moon,
the Full Moon and the Old Moon. The Triple Goddess is also to be identified with Greek lunar goddesses: Artemis
(the virgin), Selena (the mother) and Hecate (the crone). The Triple Goddess is an image-archetype, which incarnates throughout the ages in different cultures under different names, several individual goddesses can be interpreted as
an embodiment of the Triple Goddess. The archetype incorporates personal traits and personal potential of every woman ever been born.
With this painting I wanted to show the importance of cyclicity in nature and in life. The Moon teaches us about natural periodicity and acceptance of our mutable nature, about perception of the world as ever-recurring events. By the astronomic factors - the Earth-Moon system orbits the Sun are conditioned the processes of cyclicity in nature, circulation of matter and energy, repetitive sequences of conditions, processes, and states. It also affects people's mental state, especially women, whose lives and neurohumoral regulation are most susceptible to cyclical changes. The Moon transits through the signs of the zodiac and is the fastest celestial body in astrology.
The moon sign speaks about the emotional world, symbolizes the feminine principle, emotions, instincts and intuition. During the 28 days of its orbit it is the position of the Moon that will affect a person's mood and emotional state.
Using the image of Hecate I wanted to create a sense of natural and mental processes, that have a certain level of mystery in people's minds. Hecate is the goddess of the Moon, night, the Underworld, magic and witchcraft.
With this painting I tried to induce a feeling of mystery and mystique, to make the viewer feel the hidden forces that affect our lives, the depth and infinity of space, in which celestial bodies are located is equal to the depth and infinity of our unconscious mind.
When painting the picture, I paid special attention to creating a texture that would look like the surface of the Moon. There were many layers of transparent paint in the glazing technique.

The Greek god of war, battlelust and manliness.
On my painting I wanted to show Ares as a representation of war as an invincible force that causes overall destruction and brings chaos. While Athene represents the tactics and justice and the protecting side of the war, Ares represents
the violence and carnage, hostility. The golden serpent emblazoned on his shield was sacred to Ares and symbolizes sly and unjust war tactics. Ares advances at us, steady, insensate and inevitable.
On the background I pictured the symbols of war events throughout the history and the golden spear of Ares reflects
the nuclear bomb from the future.

This portrait of Friedrich Nietzsche is part of my ongoing Magnum Opus Series, where I explore the transformative stages of individuation through a unique and experimental oil painting technique. Inspired by alchemy’s four stages—Nigredo, Albedo, Citrinitas, and Rubedo—I sought to capture Nietzsche’s complex psyche and philosophical journey. As I progressed through the layers, I questioned whether he ever reached the final stage of self-transcendence or if his encounter with the unconscious became too overwhelming. The painting remains unresolved, mirroring the enigma of Nietzsche’s own individuation process.

Perhaps a future series of portraits reflecting stages of the Great Work in some outstanding individuals. The colors represent the four stages of alchemical transmutation that Carl Gustav Jung compared with the processes of individuation. Nigredo (black phase), Albedo (white phase), Citrinatis (yellow phase), Rubedo (red phase). And then the gold flakes symbolizing the philosophical stone.
The great work signifies the spiritual path towards self-transcendence in its entirety, it is the creation of man by himself, the full and entire conquest of his faculties and his future, the perfect emancipation of his will - becoming one with yourself, with God and the World.
For me, it is such a miracle and such a joy to know that people like that lived and left after themselves such a grandiose imperishable legacy that continues to inspire and lead culture and society. These overall Artists help to clarify
the chaos of thoughts and ideas and turn reserves of a person into gold.

Another important memorial painting. I started painting it in 2007 in Los Angeles and finished it in 2023 in Cape Coral. This is my first serious oil painting, unlike as my watercolor paintings I wanted to make this one very solid, monumental, make it as a tribute. There are 72 roses on the painting – each bloom for a year of life. Roses begin with
a rapid young flowering, go through the stages of childhood, adolescence, adulthood, old age and death. The vase is cracked by a stuck cigarette...
I wanted to convey the atmosphere of the house where Hugh Warner (Marilyn Manson's father) lived taking care of his wife Barbara.

The painting was inspired by introduction into alchemical symbolism, where the phoenix plays an important figurative role corresponding to the final stage of the Great Work and is a symbol of the rebirth of the human soul.
Here I wanted to refer more to Slavic folklore and paint not a phoenix (traditional for western mythologies), but namely a Firebird. An interesting intersection of meanings has been discovered.
The Firebird is a character in East Slavic fairy tales, a miraculous bird, the purpose of the quest of various heroes from Russian fables (like a phoenix symbolizing a philosophical stone was a purpose of medieval alchemists). Catching this bird is a difficult challenge and is one of the main tasks that a father gives to his sons. Always only the kind-hearted youngest son manages to fulfill it.
The painting depicts the moment of the bird’s unexpected fright caused by the bird being just found by a viewer.
A firebird’s valuable ability is to turn everything into gold. But it is difficult to catch it, the bird is skittish and ready to fly away at the first suspicion of danger.

Painting inspired by the poem of french decadent Charles Baudelaire "A Carcass":
My love, do you recall the object which we saw,
That fair, sweet, summer morn!
At a turn in the path a foul carcass
On a gravel strewn bed,
Its legs raised in the air, like a lustful woman,
Burning and dripping with poisons,
Displayed in a shameless, nonchalant way
Its belly, swollen with gases.
The sun shone down upon that putrescence,
As if to roast it to a turn,
And to give back a hundredfold to great Nature
The elements she had combined;
And the sky was watching that superb cadaver
Blossom like a flower.
So frightful was the stench that you believed
You'd faint away upon the grass.
The blow-flies were buzzing round that putrid belly,
From which came forth black battalions
Of maggots, which oozed out like a heavy liquid
All along those living tatters.
All this was descending and rising like a wave,
Or poured out with a crackling sound;
One would have said the body, swollen with a vague breath,
Lived by multiplication.
And this world gave forth singular music,
Like running water or the wind,
Or the grain that winnowers with a rhythmic motion
Shake in their winnowing baskets.
The forms disappeared and were no more than a dream,
A sketch that slowly falls
Upon the forgotten canvas, that the artist
Completes from memory alone.
Crouched behind the boulders, an anxious dog
Watched us with angry eye,
Waiting for the moment to take back from the carcass
The morsel he had left.
— And yet you will be like this corruption,
Like this horrible infection,
Star of my eyes, sunlight of my being,
You, my angel and my passion!
Yes! thus will you be, queen of the Graces,
After the last sacraments,
When you go beneath grass and luxuriant flowers,
To molder among the bones of the dead.
Then, O my beauty! say to the worms who will
Devour you with kisses,
That I have kept the form and the divine essence
Of my decomposed love!


In "Allegory of the Swan," I present a layered, symbolic meditation on the alchemical bond between Salvador Dalí and his lifelong muse, manager, and myth-maker—Gala Dalí, born Elena Ivanovna Diakonova in Russia. This painting is both a surrealist iconography and a personal homage to a woman who shaped an era—and to the kind of transformative love that shapes artists from the inside out.
At the center stands Dalí, proud and costumed in his signature purple coat, a visual sign of theatrical genius. His pose suggests control, yet his mustache—the symbol of his eccentric image—is being altered before our eyes. Seated delicately in his right hand is a nude Gala, holding a golden brush, transforming his famous mustache into gold. She appears weightless and divine, and yet fully in command. This is Gala as the architect of his identity, the one who recognized his greatness long before the world did.
Gala, eleven years Dalí’s senior, met him when he was still young, fragile, and unsure. Their age difference was significant—she was his elder, his guide, his initiatrix. Gala wears nothing but her beloved carnelian bracelet, an object she was often photographed in. Her nudity is not erotic in the conventional sense—it is mythic, reminiscent of divine muses, classical nymphs, and surrealist goddesses. She is fully herself, and she is not there for our pleasure—she is there to create. The names Dalí gave her—"Gradiva," "Saint Helena," "Galatea," "My victory," "My savior"—are handwritten on Dalí’s scarf, like sacred spells. They trace the obsessive worship he projected onto her, a worship that turned into art, into madness, into salvation.
Behind Dalí, the rugged coastline of Figueres unfurls, rendered in a dreamlike palette of greens and blues. This landscape was sacred to Dalí - the rocks, cliffs, and seaside of Catalonia were his earliest muses. He often wrote that he could stare at the rocks for hours until they melted into visions, which he then transmuted into his most surreal compositions. In my painting, the natural forms begin to shift and suggest hidden imagery - faces, creatures, perhaps even sexual symbols - mirroring how Dalí’s own imagination could morph the real into the surreal.
From the golden brush Gala holds, a glowing stream of surreal images emerges - references to Dalí’s most iconic paintings, flickering into existence like divine manifestations. This light is both literal and metaphorical: the illumination Gala brought into his life, the visionary fire she sparked in him.
And yet, the painting holds tension. At Dalí’s groin, a swan bows its neck, a symbol pulled from the myth of Leda and the Swan, and Freud’s theories of sexuality. But here, the swan’s form is not dominant—it’s soft, ambiguous, even suggestive of impotence. Dalí was rumored to struggle with physical intimacy, channeling his libido into visions rather than flesh. The swan, holding a sprig of Gala’s favorite flower (Strawflower - Xerochrysum, called "The Immortelle" in Russia) in its beak becomes a symbol of sublimated desire, transformed into loyalty and art, it reflects the paradoxes of their union—passion and dysfunction, worship and need, power and dependence.
The title, “Allegory of the Swan,” holds multiple meanings. It evokes the romanticized classical imagery of Leda, but twists it into something modern and psychological. It becomes a metaphor for Dalí’s relationship with Gala—a being of grace and beauty, but also a creature of burden, ambivalence, and mystery. She was his queen, and also perhaps his captor.
Finally, the entire composition is meticulously rendered in a realistic yet dream-infused style, echoing Dalí’s own pursuit of “hand-painted dream photographs.” The tactile presence of the gold, the sea, the skin, and the symbols merges myth and memory into a single tableau. It is both a homage and an analysis—a visual love letter and a symbolic autopsy.
“Allegory of the Swan” is my way of entering the dream-world of Dali and Gala, not just to admire its surfaces but to uncover the human, raw, and complicated truths beneath it. It is about how muses shape artists, how love can be divine and destructive, and how the psyche, the body, and the brushstroke all play a role in the making of genius.

Marlene Dietrich – Timeless Elegance in oil. This highly detailed black-and-white oil portrait captures the legendary Marlene Dietrich, the German-born actress and singer who defined the golden age of Hollywood with her enigmatic beauty, bold charisma, and androgynous allure.
I chose to render this portrait in black and white to evoke the spirit of early cinema, where light and shadow sculpted faces into timeless icons. However, the black in this painting is not just black—it is a specially mixed deep brown, sepia-black, reminiscent of vintage film stock, adding warmth and depth to the monochrome tones. Her luminous skin emerges from the abyss of a deep, matte black background, creating a striking contrast between light and shadow. The glossy finish of the portrait enhances the realism, making her expression almost lifelike, while the background absorbs light, drawing the viewer into the cinematic drama of her gaze.
Every delicate brushstroke captures the softness of her classic waves, the subtle arch of her brows, and the knowing depth in her eyes—qualities that made Dietrich not only a star but an enduring symbol of strength, mystery, and rebellion.

"Spade" is a gothic, hyperrealistic oil painting depicting two anatomically accurate human hearts in a surreal blood transfusion—one suspended and lifeless, the other grounded, engorged, and overflowing. The piece is inspired by the haunting emotional landscape of Marilyn Manson’s song “Spade”, especially the lyric “You drained my heart, and made a spade / But there's still traces of me in your veins”. The painting echoes the emotional rupture in Manson’s relationship with Dita Von Teese, who left him after witnessing his descent into self-destruction through alcohol and drug abuse.
In this piece, the upper heart is translucent, cold, almost ghostly—symbolizing a heart that has given everything and now hangs lifeless, drained of blood and color. It evokes the real medical phenomenon where a heart deprived of blood becomes pale, glassy, and hollow—something the artist saw online and wanted to render with scientific accuracy and emotional gravity.
Below it, the receiving heart pulses with overwhelming vitality. Saturated in hot reds and oranges, its arteries erupt with blood, gushing and splattering from the pressure of love that is perhaps too much to hold. It's a visual paradox: one heart dies from giving too much, the other is drowning in what it receives.
This visual metaphor for sacrificial love and emotional imbalance was executed using a classical glazing technique—layering thin, translucent coats of oil paint to build depth, vibrancy, and a sense of living, breathing flesh. The architectural framing gives the piece a reliquary-like stillness, like something sacred yet unsettling preserved behind glass.
"Spade" is both anatomical and allegorical—a tragic poem in paint about life, death, codependency, and the gothic beauty of a love that devours.