nothing makes me blush quite like a michael leonard painting
just the way these paintings sit in the center of some precarious intersection of mundanity, voyeurism, casual nudity, and unassuming sexuality. each inhabits one of those moments where you steal a glance and then quickly force yourself to look away, except now the moment is lovingly rendered as a lush, warm vignette that invites you to look longer because of its very nature as a painting. the tension, the drama, the mystique. dare i say… exquisite
