The Open Drawer

On one of my easels...

2012-02-09T13:30:00.001-08:00

Another homage to the McCloskey oranges at the DeYoung museum continues without the oranges, and on a larger scale. These two plums wrapped in tissue are close to completion. This 24" x 36" painting will be delivered on Valentines Day.

...fragments from a remembered dream.

2012-01-31T09:35:00.001-08:00

...fragments from an unremembered dream.

2012-01-18T08:36:00.001-08:00

...doing lines.

2012-01-14T22:02:00.001-08:00

...the transmigration of souls.

2012-01-10T20:49:00.001-08:00

Usually I get the year wrong not the month.

First Sketch of 2012

2012-01-01T22:20:00.001-08:00

I'm beginning to think that sketching is a way for me to express my own contradictions. Ambiguity, contrast and paradox are the names of the wise men who speak to me lately.

Last Sketch of 2011

2011-12-31T18:35:00.000-08:00

What a beautiful day today in San Francisco. Both sunrise and sunset were melting layers of an orange sherbet push-up popsicle and a Cherry Garcia ice cream wedge. In between each display people spilled outdoors to embrace the day; a crisp and vibrant year-end gift. The above scribble-fest is this year's last. I titled it there's no here without there.

Holiday Season Hours

2011-12-19T10:19:00.001-08:00

With a few days remaining why not consider making artwork a gift? A painting or drawing has the true potential to become a family heirloom. It's a gift born from imagination. Not only that of the artist but also the insight and vision of the gift-giver. Art feeds the soul and stimulates the intangibles within. It's made by hand and grown locally in my case. So give it some thought if you're facing creative block while looking for that unique present.
My studio hours:
Friday 12p-7p
Saturday11a-3p
Actually I'm there all day this week except for Thursday so....

Chubby.

2011-12-12T19:43:00.001-08:00

I can't help myself. Donuts are fun to paint. Especially the sculptural ones found at 18th and Mission. The frame is a vintage egg and dart I found in Santa Barbara. I decided they belong together. Classic and whimsical at the same time.

Art Studio

2011-12-11T20:32:00.001-08:00

Random studio snapshots are useful for personal archives. They help me to recall what was happening and what I was making. Photos assist with chronology and tell a story that may not show up in my journals or sketchbooks. I'm not trying to secure every detail of my life but I'm still trying to grow. So keeping a record helps to insure that complacency and stagnation don't take hold. And if those two fears seep through under my door then maybe this record keeping is all I need to check myself.

Ocean Beach Donut

2011-12-05T20:43:00.001-08:00

Art Show In Santa Barbara!

2011-12-04T16:45:00.000-08:00

Hey! When in Santa Barbara please visit Sullivan Goss/An American Art Gallery. This month is the 100 Grand Art Exhibit featuring a vast array of artworks, all for prices specifically designed as a holiday gift to patrons. I'm grateful to participate with the above two 12" x 12" paintings in the show from my Beach Wall series.

SGTV Presents 100 GRAND (100 works of art for $1,000 or less)

Persimmons

2011-12-01T21:02:00.001-08:00

I've been eating Fuyu persimmons like apples this year. They are the best! The Hachiya made an appearance in the persimmon pumpkin pie I baked last week. Incredible! For painting purposes I believe the Hachiya has a sweeter elegance. I began trying to capture that today in acrylic. The frame it's in here has been waiting for a painting to wrap itself around. By the time I'm done maybe they will be a team.

...plums happen.

2011-11-26T11:44:00.001-08:00

An oil study of Santa Rosa plums happens. Floating simply on a field of dark negative space, I feel only positive about how much power two plums have to inspire.

Field Photos

2011-11-15T12:30:00.001-08:00

Wendell Berry: "Soil is the great connector of our lives, the source and destination of all."

Labor Art

2011-11-11T13:41:00.001-08:00

This study titled Our Daily Bread is from the current exhibit at 555 California Street. Here the workers populate the field like a repeat pattern on a chunk of fabric. Generally overlooked and dismissed, these laborers are the backbone of American agriculture.

Quick Rough Sketches

2011-11-03T17:41:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite spots for sketching is about forty miles south on the coast near Pescadero. Rows of strawberries stretch out toward the Pacific Ocean. There's something about this spot that feels right. I go there expecting to find the answer and return with questions. The sketches exist in between.

555 California Concourse Exhibit

2011-11-01T20:34:00.000-07:00

The paintings in this exhibit are each 12" X 24" acrylic on wood panels. This one is titled Fruit of Thy Womb.

New Exhibit @ 555 California Street!

2011-10-31T09:58:00.000-07:00

This is a series of acrylic studies for a larger, more extensive body of work. Agricultural labor was the career of both my grandfathers. Each owned a farm: one in Nebraska and the other in Puerto Rico. I was raised in California and these paintings represent my extension of that legacy. Actually, everyone is related to agriculture since we all eat, but as small farms continue to disappear, we are becoming increasingly oblivious to the process by which food gets to our tables.

A drive in any direction from San Francisco ultimately features a landscape dotted with laborers in fields of one crop or another. What I find underneath the ruffling blanket of its politics is a beauty and clarity defined by the act of working the land. Stooped for hours in the sun, field labor is connected to the earth in an arduous and robust way that very few Americans experience. It's real and tangible. It's a ceaseless effort of gritty physicality. It's familiar and timeless, like the soil itself. It's everywhere and always. Right now, there are hands reaching, pulling and fully extending themselves for a necessary purpose. Bodies of all ages perform a backbreaking dance that can only be done by hand. We are all of the earth and dependent upon it, just as we are dependent upon those human hands that work it.

recent sketches

2011-10-03T19:57:00.001-07:00

random

2011-10-03T19:52:00.000-07:00

Hands in Art

2011-09-01T18:31:00.000-07:00

Featured here are random hands within different paintings in the permanent collection at the Legion of Honor Museum. Since I live nearby, and have become so familiar with many of the paintings there over the years, I sometimes place my focus on a chosen theme. For example, drapery, sky, water and this time, hands. I enjoy drawing and painting hands and the museum acts as an informal workshop through observation. My favorite are the El Greco hands sixth from the top. I feel moved by the pose and loose painterly rendering. Somehow his hands stand out from the rest for me.

method

2011-08-22T10:19:00.000-07:00

One of my palettes, pictured here, is a small glass mixing area that's easy to clean with a scraper and sits upon a set of drawers on wheels. This palette features the intuitive method of paint arranging. Feeling instead of thinking takes over in this particular approach. It's a less is more approach, more or less with less technique and more expression. It looks good on the glass anyway so maybe...

details

2011-08-17T20:19:00.000-07:00

Here I've edited out as much as possible from a larger composition. The intent was to distill the essence of a field labor scene without losing the integrity of the whole. This also gave me the opportunity to practice focusing my vision on a smaller scale. The painting is 20" x 24" oil on canvas.

how it begins...

2011-08-05T07:52:00.000-07:00

This is not how it begins. Sketching, drawing and painting are the result of my time spent outside the studio experiencing the world. To discover a fragment of life and be moved by it is how it begins. The time spent noticing, seeing, gazing, looking, and observing is pivotal. What is paramount is trusting the feeling and intuitive pull that takes me somewhere and to something and to ultimately follow through with my expression in an effort to discover why.

ritual

2011-07-30T06:33:00.000-07:00

Above are random recent images from my daily drawing ritual. I usually sit at one of the handful of cafes between my home and studio although not always. It doesn't matter where I perch or what I scribble just as long as I do it. Expanding my list of locales crosses my mind, and occasionally I do, but mostly I don't. I like a table and chair to sit at since I write too. The cafe across from Lincoln Park on Clement has pulled me in recently. It's funky inside with an old piano sitting unused like a prop and a backyard patio that is quiet. Quiet is something I have been savoring. There are very few places to go where music isn't constantly playing and crowding out the sound of silence. Maybe I'll try the museum today for a sketch and the Picasso exhibit.

Playing with Panorama

2011-07-07T10:16:00.000-07:00

I've been using the application Photosynth to shoot panoramas. The pics serve as a visual connection for me to my workspace. Something to look at when I'm not there. What I enjoy most are the unplanned hallucinatory overlaps and blurs that occur. These tend to give my studio a dose of magic realism. And offer a subtle suggestion for my paintings perhaps in a place where anything is possible.

I Need Your Help

2011-06-04T17:22:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I'm asked why artists paint what they paint. The answer can be quite varied and complex. I believe the truth is much simpler. We paint what moves us. An experience, observation or epiphany that is compelling and powerful can easily find its way into a piece of choreography, a poem or painting. What moves us might be as mundane as a dancing tree casting shadows against a wall on a windy sunny day, or as riveting as war. Theodore Gericault was moved by the story of a shipwreck and then committed to painting his 1819 masterpiece The Raft of the Medusa. It's a tremendous mural-sized monument to his vision of the event, which has outlived the original story, and is now an event in itself. It hangs in the Louvre in Paris and when I first saw it I was blown away. When I think masterpiece I think of this painting.

It moved me enough to make sketches, drawings and ultimately a series of small paintings based on details I found interesting within his composition. My painting thinks about the figures who are waving cloth and seeking help from a distant ship on the horizon. My 2006 painting above is titled I Need Your Help, and may have started with my Louvre experience, but now it lives on its own. It may possibly give life to any number of new stories depending on the mindset of each viewer and art patron. This is my reason for making this painting.

Donut and Plum.

2011-04-18T12:13:00.000-07:00

Two paintings from a continuing series of square compositions that I've been creating over the years at my art studio. Even completely different subjects can play well together.

More Art on Walls.

2011-04-13T12:05:00.000-07:00

This awesome painting hangs boldly on the wall at the top of the entry-way stairs. It's one from an ongoing series of sea urchins by local artist Charlie Callahan. The artwork becomes a vibrant abstraction of color up close and tightens up to become a vivid icon from the sea as you view it from a distance. It's such a cool painting as are all his urchin mandalas. A mural of the same subject can be seen on the exterior of the Outerlands restaurant in the Sunset District. Very cool stuff!

What art is hanging on your walls at home?

2011-04-10T17:48:00.000-07:00

This is a question I sometimes like to ask people when we get to talking about art. The answers give me a little bit of insight into what people are into. There's always a story. So here's one of my answers to my own question. This colorful art piece hangs on one wall in my living room. It's a serigraph from the 1950s and I'm only semi-embarrassed not to know the name of the creator. I tried to authenticate it in the past but had no success. This kooky composition never fails to please me. It's easily my favorite image on my home walls but not the only one. Maybe it's nostalgia that grips me since it made it's way from Sioux City to San Francisco and was forever on the same wall in the house where I was raised. That's one. I'll post others later.

The Blank Page.

2011-03-28T20:14:00.000-07:00

The above painting was commissioned by a writer. He had seen a painting of a baseball I had created for a friend of his last year. The painting above that painting is the baseball painting. The machine is a 1933 Burroughs Electric Carriage I borrowed from the writer's extensive typewriter collection. I chose this one to paint because of its blocky shape. Now, as I see them together, I think about the natural combination of these two vintage icons. How well they go together and not just because of the delightful geometric juxtaposition. One plays and the other tells the story. In 1933 the great sportswriter Ring Lardner died. He wrote his last baseball story that year titled Lose With a Smile. It's the story of a Brooklyn Dodgers rookie who writes letters to his girl. Did Ring type it on a Burroughs? I don't know but it's likely that some sportswriter wrote about Babe Ruth or Carl Hubbell on one of these things. It's this kind of wondering that creates a sense of longing in me for those good old days that I never even experienced. But I've imagined them. And like the blank page in the typewriter, the imagination is full of possibilities.

Belizian Bananas

2011-03-24T10:29:00.001-07:00

I scrawled a dozen sketches of this bunch of bananas hanging from a pole in a bar on Maya Beach in Belize. They are the snack food of choice and I had to scribble this image before each banana was grabbed to be eaten or plunged into a rum drink. This painting is the result and reminds me that great things come from hanging out in bars.

Perhaps, that forbidden treat that Eve plucked may not have been an apple after all...

Tropical

2011-03-22T12:00:00.000-07:00

Theses three paintings are from a series inspired by visits to Belize and Honduras. Each is an oil painting on linen stretched over birch panels. They are 48" x 60" of robust fruit from Central America and currently available. More variations on this theme are on the way.

Sketch Exhibit Encore: Saturday March 19th.

2011-03-14T09:31:00.000-07:00

I've decided to encore my First Annual Sketch Exhibit. It's this Saturday March 19th from 11am to 5pm. Can there be too much of a good thing? Not when people get together to talk about art and share in the positive and uplifting discourse that creativity inspires. That's how it was last Saturday: a tremendous gathering of the big hearted and open-minded. So, why not leave the artwork up for one more week?

Come one, come all...

Jay Mercado Studio -- Saturday, March 19, 11a - 5p -- 4754 California Street @ 10th Ave.

Sketches!

2011-03-07T21:02:00.000-08:00

Some Not-So Recent Sketches

2011-03-03T12:39:00.000-08:00

I think a sketch doesn't have to beautiful. It just has to be drawn. The process is the beautiful part. It's grounding and centering and observing. How many things in life truly rivet our attention? Sketching keeps me in that moment. And those moments become fresh again when I look through old sketchbooks.

Some Recent Sketches

2011-02-27T14:54:00.000-08:00

In my bag I carry a sketchbook, 4 X 5 cards and loose leaf arches and rives printmaker's paper. I keep watercolors available but have not used them as much as I used to. I mostly use a Uniball micro pen or Sakura Microns for my drawing. Recently I rediscovered an old Senator fountain pen which has a nice feel. The feel is what it's all about. Whatever feels good in my hand will give me the best opportunity to express myself fully in the moment.

Date Change for Studio Show: A Year in Sketches

2011-02-16T09:09:00.000-08:00

On Saturday March 12th from 10am-5pm I'll be opening my studio as I do every Saturday. However on this date I'll be displaying a whole big bunch of sketches on my studio wall.

This group of ink scribblings is a sample from my ongoing morning sketch ritual. I invite you to see these magnificent doodles from 2010!

I like to sketch because it grounds me in the moment. It's a disciplined observation. It's a meditation. It's a visual journal. It's a time for the mind to go quiet. Sketching provides an inner oasis as I begin each creative day.

From 10am-11am i'll be holding an informal super-mini-sketching-semi-workshop/doodle session for anyone interested in becoming a sketcher. RSVP por favor for this session!

And then drop in and have a look around, eat a couple mallomars and let's make a sketch...!

Lands End Rocks

2010-12-27T17:24:00.001-08:00

Some more under-painting and composing of the rocks near the labyrinth.

Lands End Rocks

2010-12-22T10:03:00.000-08:00

This is the first lay-in of one of six paintings focusing on the rocks and water at Lands End. The northwest corner of San Francisco always inspires.

Waxing Gibbous

2010-12-13T20:15:00.001-08:00

Studio Holiday Open House & New Still Life Painting Preview: 12/11 from 10am-6pm

2010-12-04T18:47:00.000-08:00

Weave your way to 4754 California Street @ 10th avenue for homemade cookies, cider and art!

New Still Life Paintings

2010-11-21T17:02:00.000-08:00

Minneola on the wall at Ocean Beach. Number seven in a series of twenty twelve by twelve inch paintings.

Joy

2010-11-17T09:25:00.000-08:00

"He who binds himself to a joy does the winged life destroy.

But he who kisses joy as it flies lives in eternity's sunrise."

-william blake

Postcard art...

2010-11-15T10:35:00.000-08:00

...must be postmarked to be finished.

New Still Life Paintings

2010-11-12T18:09:00.000-08:00

Scrubbing paint within the confines of a square canvas challenges me to simplify and play and discover. As the mind goes quiet the paintings start to paint themselves.

Sketch at Philz on Berry Street

2010-11-08T18:15:00.000-08:00

I felt drawn to the opposite side of town today. The hope of seeing the unexpected has me straying from the familiar more and more often than not.

old balls

2010-11-05T19:14:00.000-07:00

More American icon painting. These three old baseballs I had scattered around my workspace have come together to model for this recent painting in the spirit of the Giants World Series victory.

Ramos-Martinez Homage

2010-09-30T18:12:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling a need to revisit my artistic influences. They are countless and each teaches something different. In an effort to return to fundamentals, with the emphasis on fun, I took an empty canvas and re-created a detail from an Alfredo Ramos-Martinez drawing titled Mexican Family, which he originally created in 1932. A pre-colombian influence combined with a hint of art deco results in solid, simple yet iconic depictions of people from his native Mexico. The images above not only represent my attempt to pay homage to a favorite painter, but also perhaps learn something by doing so. What I learned is to continue to simplify my vision. I'll be reminded daily since this 48" X 48" exercise is for personal use only and hangs in my dining room.

Observation

2010-09-14T08:09:00.001-07:00

There is much to be found in a short walk through the neighborhood. Or a long walk. Or not walking at all, but instead simply watching light travel through a room and seeing what it catches.

In and Out

2010-09-04T22:45:00.000-07:00

Looking in. Looking out. One View.

Divided yet connected. Split. Wide open yet enclosed.

The great American author F. Scott Fitzgerald once said, "The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function. One should, for example, be able to see that things are hopeless yet be determined to make them otherwise."

Nice. Easier said than done. I prefer to use charcoal and see two points of view at the same time.

American Icon Series

2010-08-30T18:15:00.000-07:00

Four from my ongoing series of American Icons.

The Only Way Out is In.

2010-08-25T19:28:00.000-07:00

Nothing feels or sounds like charcoal. It's raw and messy. Black and filthy. It has a raspy voice like leafy branches scraping the side of a house on a windy night. Drawing with charcoal makes time stand still. A primordial connection lives inside charcoal. It's a link to ancient artists who took whatever they had and made something out of nothing. With burnt chunks of wood they made images, lines and marks. They made art.

Labor.

2010-08-23T21:04:00.000-07:00

Why do I continue to make artwork about labor?

Because it's real and tangible. It's a ceaseless act of gritty physical effort. It's as familiar, ubiquitous and timeless as dirt itself. It's everywhere and always. Right now there are hands reaching, pulling, pounding and fully exerting themselves for a necessary purpose. These stretching, toiling, striving hands perform a back-breaking work that can really only be done by hand. That's what I see. It's honest. That's what I feel. It's pure. Which is what I try to distill in my paintings of field labor harvest scenes.

The above painting of a grape gathering is based upon my observations and sketches during a harvest in the Alexander Valley. But it could be anywhere any year. It's the remaining available piece from this particular series. It's an oil painting on linen-stretched panel and measures 48" X 48" square.

Contact me to see how it will look on your wall.

Jay

415-751-4232

The Antidote to Civilization

2010-08-11T21:15:00.000-07:00

"3:48am...tuesday morning. have to pee. the full moon tricks me into thinking the sun is rising. hard to tell in a tent. it's a big bright floating globe hovering over a snowy mountain. below is a lake full of reflected light. it's a magical sight. the only sounds aside from my rustling are the applause of a nearby river and the wind blowing through a faraway canyon . the absent noise from the city is not at all missed. here the stars are a constellation party even with the moon waxing gibbous. i'd forgotten about stars. it's cold but i don't care as i walk into a bunch of boulders for relief while admiring the show at this newfound planetarium. i don't feel much like sleeping. i'll try anyway out of respect to the others. but i'd prefer to rise and begin the day. there's so much to see and i don't want to miss a thing."

-this journal entry is from day one of the benson lake loop hike 2010. so far it's the most challenging and necessary backpacking trip i've taken.

Tangled Kelp in a Box

2010-06-27T22:50:00.000-07:00

Kelp entered my artwork years ago. I usually see mounds of it washed up on the shore, bunched upon Ocean Beach. Like the mazes I enjoyed drawing as a child the kelp is a naturally convoluted entanglement. It's a knot that can't be untied. In the sea it's a bustling ecosystem of abstract, twisted, labyrinthian cords of green and amber. If you scuba-dive you'll see that kelp exists as a marketplace for countless underwater creatures and fish. I draw it because of its perplexity. I paint it because of my life-long connection to the ocean.

My New Website is Up

2010-06-22T13:19:00.000-07:00

www.jaymercado.com

The Yellow Legal Pad

2010-06-16T18:48:00.000-07:00

A yellow legal pad is always in my bag. It's not quite a journal or a sketchbook. However it is a little of both and more. Perhaps it's a bridge between the two. It doesn't extract the confessions and observations that a journal might. It doesn't focus attention as a sketchbook might. But anything goes on the yellow pad. This should be true for the other books but the difference is the pad itself. Brainstorms burst better on a yellow pad and thoughts flow freely.

Crashing Wave of Cloth Continued

2010-06-10T17:56:00.001-07:00

I'm still getting lost in this 4' X 5' crashing wave of cloth painting. Or am I getting found? Either way, this is my meditation lately.

Crashing Wave of Cloth

2010-05-26T08:55:00.000-07:00

Crashing waves are everywhere.

Caribbean Red

2010-05-06T19:13:00.000-07:00

The closest I can get to the Caribbean lately is to begin a painting inspired by the tropics. When on the island it's best to buy papaya from the guy who shows up sometimes with a truck full of edibles. Nothing is better sliced and stored in the fridge for snacking than the fruit of angels. Papaya. I found this beauty at a local market. Maybe it's from there. Maybe it's a variety of papaya that can be grown anywhere. Maybe it's named after a pirate. The sticker reads Caribbean Red. It tasted anything but rough and salty. The slice I savored was ideal. No maybes. My intention was to eat it all, not paint a papaya, but that's how it is sometimes. The papaya insisted and so it begins.

The Past is the Present

2010-05-04T18:40:00.000-07:00

Lately the past has a way of becoming the present. Thoughts of my former days in Los Angeles have found new life in my imagination. I loved living in LA. It was so different. So big. So full of unlimited opportunity and the unexpected. Not only because it's the land of dreams, but also because it is quite literally endless. By contrast San Francisco is a great big small town. It's a village full of villages and I grew up in one of them, the Sunset District. I wanted to sample the vastness and contrasts that could only be found in the giant southland. UCLA was my gateway. Of course, I now live in SF, but I miss many of the feelings I associate with my time in the megalopolis. Feelings that I hope to bring to life again with a fresh perspective and open enthusiasm. One of the top reasons I moved north is illustrated in the painting above. I made this plein-air study on the fire-trail where I often ran to escape the urban madness and strengthen my resolve. It winds steep and wraps around the top of upper Mandeville Canyon off Sunset Boulevard in the westside of town. The lush canyon was at one point designed to be gardens for botanical research and exists now as a community of ranch-style homes surrounded by enough flora and fauna to make you think you might live anywhere else but LA. That's why I drove thirty minutes from my home to go running there. That's why I painted my running trail. That's why I left LA. There's just not enough natural beauty left to embrace. No places to run. I wonder what gems I might have discovered had I remained there but now I'm here. There's an abundance of natural beauty right outside my front door, full of unlimited opportunity, and the unexpected.

Today

2010-04-20T19:24:00.000-07:00

On one of my easels rests this painting still unfinished. In this state the art is meditation that quiets my mind as I make it come alive. I lose myself in the rolling hills of drapery. I push, pull, plunge and pet. I'm in a creative trance in my sacred space. This is my mandala.

Plums

2010-04-19T12:13:00.000-07:00

This Is Just To say

I have eaten

the plums

that were in

the icebox

and which

you were probably

saving

for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold.

--William Carlos Wiliams

The Neighborhood

2010-04-18T08:28:00.000-07:00

Looking at the Overlooked

2010-04-14T23:43:00.000-07:00

I saw this trio of dogs in front of Peets on Fillmore. The pooch with the cone was why I stopped to take a closer look. I like most dogs but one-eyed dogs, three-legged dogs and dogs wearing cones bring out the paparazzi in me. I believe they bring good luck. The same goes for cats. I noticed the cat above watching people go by on 18th near Mission. I'm uncertain if it was a one-eyed cat but this cat was cool just the same.

Bodegon: Sheet on a Stone Ledge at 4am

2010-04-10T16:24:00.000-07:00

My sheet on a stone ledge at 4am is like an ocean wave. Not too far off, the sounds of pounding and slapping resonate.

Hummingbirds Happen

2010-04-05T20:26:00.000-07:00

Just yesterday I came across a charcoal drawing I made as a study. The project was a private commission which only had one demand. The art must feature hummingbirds. This house already displayed one of my still-life paintings. The couple fell in love with one of my huge pomegranates. Then they asked me to create another artwork based on their shared love for hummingbirds. If only this would happen every week. The drawing above was the first stage in the process. I choose my subjects but sometimes my subject chooses me. Busy with the still-life and figure, I never approached birds before that time, however I saw the hummingbird painting as an opportunity to spread my wings. And that has made all the difference.

More Ocean Beach Wall

2010-04-03T09:31:00.000-07:00

The Ocean Beach Wall

2010-04-02T07:58:00.000-07:00

The wall at Ocean Beach here in San Francisco stretches out from the base of the Cliff House incline, all the way south to Lincoln Way at the west end of Golden Gate Park. It was built in 1916 as an esplanade with a lavish walking area. Since then the parking lot has eclipsed most of the original concept. But that hasn't effected its popularity as a destination. Run, bike, walk along the length of it. Wax your surfboard there. Watch the waves and break bread with a friend while sitting on top. I'm slowly including more elements from my life into my artwork. That's why I've introduced the wall as an element in some of my still life paintings (and also because it's there).

Fruit of the Gods

2010-03-30T21:18:00.000-07:00

Every year persimmons show up in my paintings. This one on the bench is waiting for a coat of varnish to take the glare off the surface and even things out. Other than that it's almost done. Usually I compose with the light source coming in from the left but not this time. This painting is a commission intended to hang in a spot with an ambient light source from the right. Both the real and imagined light are consistent. So until this piece is hanging on that chosen wall this persimmon painting remains unfinished.

Are you busy?

2010-03-24T20:15:00.000-07:00

As I left home today I stopped to stare at the ocean before climbing into my pickup. Then I noticed them. Dozens of calla lilies right in front of me waiting for me to pay attention. They seemed to have arrived overnight. How'd that happen? The truth is I've been too busy to look at the overlooked. The irony is that if I had more work I wouldn't be so busy. That's what I tell people when asked that popular refrain, "are you busy?" Somewhere along the road I heard a story about Monet. He was painting in his garden and his neighbor asked if he was working. He said "No, I'm relaxing." The next day the neighbor saw him sitting in his garden staring. He asked Monet if he was taking a break. Monet said, "No, I'm working." The result is that I took a cue from Monet this morning and spent some time working among the calla lilies and my day was much better because I did.

Quiet Mind

2010-03-23T09:01:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I gave my journal a workout at the Village Market. So many thoughts racing through my head that I had to throw them down on paper. Life in these times has everyone I know thinking in new ways. Often it's necessary to go for a walk to try to clear the mind. It's said that a quiet mind is a creative mind. I believe that's true. The closer I get to that quiet mind, the more my imagination blossoms. Lately mine is anything but quiet. I fantasize about what that might be like for an extended period of time. Now that I'm fully back into the art studio I'm working on several paintings at once. I'll move paint on two to three main pieces and then go play on a small study. That's how it's been this last two weeks. I'm not sure if this is my preferred way of working but it tends to be productive. Or is it? Would I be better served to focus on one piece straight through to completion? I haven't allowed myself that option yet. Perhaps with a quieter mind I wouldn't feel the need to hurry through my creations. Why hurry? I have reasons.

Below is a detail from unfinished painting:number two. A wave of cloth breaks on a shelf which also holds an unseen pear on the left side. The sky will be a midnight blue. The pear will be like the harvest moon. Painting the folds and fissures of cloth calms me down and for the moment I have a quiet mind. If what the great Ponca Chief White Eagle says is true, "the secret of strength lies in the quiet mind," then I have a way to go but a worthwhile journey ahead.

3 Persimmons on a Shelf (day two)

2010-03-21T18:25:00.000-07:00

The prep-work is so important in my larger paintings. Fortunately, for this one I created small oil and acrylic studies several months ago when persimmons were in season. Color is always intuitive for me. This is clearest when I work with the immediacy of pastels. For this commission I'm channeling that same playfulness with paint. I'm tackling the possibilities that exist within the gem-like beauty of Hachiya persimmons. At 2.5' X 6' this trio of exotic fruit are nothing but fun right now as I head into day three.

Harvest Yourself

2010-03-19T18:59:00.000-07:00

The beginning of a 16' X 2' 8" floor mural intended to be the mantra greeting as you enter the art studio. The colors may change but the sentiment remains.

Morning Sketch

2010-03-19T18:57:00.001-07:00

Workshops at the Jay Mercado Studio

2010-03-16T10:19:00.000-07:00

Sketching and Journaling

as Creative Muse

This series focuses on the importance of the sketchbook and journal as tools for looking within while looking without. Find hidden in plain sight the artistic concepts that transcend cliche and express what is truly meaningful and relevant to you.

For questions and enrollment call 415-751-4232.

Donut Painting 101

This workshop introduces a basis for painting form using the donut as muse. Learn to trust your unique and intuitive sense of composition while creating a still life using a limited color palette. It's not about painting what you see but feeling what you paint! Become one with the donut from an artist's perspective and let yourself experience fresh expression while painting an American icon.

make more art:

call 415-751-4232.

Reclining Nude

2010-03-14T13:21:00.000-07:00

The Village Market

2010-03-11T21:19:00.000-08:00

Two blocks from my art studio is the Village Market at 8th and California Street. Drinking a Blue Bottle drip coffee while sitting at one of the window tables is a great way to fill a few pages in the journal and make a sketch. It's also a good place to see people I know, say hi to someone I've never met or simply observe. There are many places but this is the spot.

La Candelaria Mountain Potters

2010-03-10T08:49:00.000-08:00

Driving a convertible VW bug to the remote village of La Candelaria in Baja, Mexico is something I recommend. Highly.

Labyrinth of Amber and Green

2010-03-09T22:19:00.000-08:00

Back in my twenties before I became a painter I spent a bunch of time exploring LA's galleries and museums. I don't recall where I found the photography of Aaron Siskind but I found it truly striking. His work unveiled a world of abstract compositions in the most unlikely yet obvious places. Elegantly cropped images of neglected walls covered with peeling paint and boulder mounds are what stick in my mind the most. He set the bar high when it comes to learning to look and I'm still learning. My front yard is a great place for channeling Aaron. I often find my inspiration in nature's debris. A pile of kelp that washes up on the beach after a storm will always fascinate me. It's a labyrinth of amber and green waiting to be entered.

Fish Cup with Yogi Tea

2010-03-08T16:52:00.000-08:00

I've been enjoying the multiple-personality weather we've been having each day. One hour it's sunny with blue skies. Then a sudden hailstorm almost knocks me off my feet as I go to move my truck away from the possibility of falling branches. The ocean changes colors as often as the waves change moods. I can relate. I'm doing all I can to remain grounded these days as I get my art studio back into shape as a place to create, share and receive artistic vision. Each day I'm closer and each day has a common start. A quick sketch in the morning brings me alive. So do streaming words in the journal. And exercise is my required meditation. Without this trusted trio I would be as unpredictable as today's skies. There's enough daily uncertainty that I don't need to add more. But there's never enough beauty. That is why I need a relaxed mind. Not just to be calm, but also to harvest myself and bring forth whatever ripe fruit is ready for plucking .

Fish Cup and Papaya

2010-03-02T08:35:00.000-08:00

Fish Cup

2010-02-28T18:51:00.000-08:00

The Art Studio

2010-02-14T14:50:00.000-08:00

I've been out of my art studio for around five months. The storefront I've been using as my workshop became ground zero for a long overdue construction project that was supposed to take a month. But old buildings are unpredictable and this one goes back to the 1890s.

Once upon a time it was a brakeman's station for the trolleys that rolled down California Street. Now it is born again as an art studio.

The time away was awkward at first since it's been my habit to go there to make art. What I discovered is that the art studio is anywhere and everywhere. It's in the back of the truck and basement. It's in the attic and the dining room. It's in the backpack and anywhere outdoors. The art studio is wherever there is enthusiasm to create.

With that in mind, I intend to re-enter my old space with new vision, embrace uncertainty and see each day as another day in paradox.

A Shaft of Sunlight

2010-02-08T09:21:00.000-08:00

I tend to start my sketch with something pleasing that catches my eye. Often it's a familiar shape, object or thing. My daily ritual takes place in the same spot at the same time lately and this morning I was greeted by a shaft of sunlight resting on my table. It wasn't there when I first sat down. But as I uncapped my pen it boldly appeared as if asking to be drawn. It's a trick request. The best way to draw light is not to draw light at all. Instead I sketched the welcoming committee of fruit that was illuminated by this radiant parade. Sunlight seems to bring out the best in everything. It certainly lifts my spirit and I'm grateful. I'm grateful for the warm bath of light I sit in as I sketch, the edible bounty it creates and for giving me a map to find beauty where I may not have seen it before.

Embrace Uncertainty: The Ladder in the Hole

2010-02-06T14:35:00.000-08:00

The White Tablecloth

2010-02-03T14:16:00.000-08:00

I've been musing about the split-perspective. I seldom see it in paintings, but when I do it can be mesmerizing. The idea of dividing the picture plane into two different sections is playful. It's another puzzle. The areas can relate or not. There are no rules, but sufficient contrast is ideal. Busy and calm. Far and close. Inside and outside. I'm starting to see an emerging metaphor here for how I want to live my year. Here and there. On land and under water. Urban and remote. Perhaps my life will begin to imitate my art as I create more of these split-perspectives. I'd like that.

Box Painting: Persephone's Pomegranate

2010-02-01T18:14:00.000-08:00

Still Life with Electrical Socket

2010-02-01T15:09:00.000-08:00

The Great Square Has No Corners

2010-01-31T09:19:00.001-08:00

Box Painting: Pear Tajitu

2010-01-30T16:04:00.000-08:00

I've been painting objects in boxes for a bunch of years. And I've enjoyed the box as a visual constraint within which I've had fun solving a compositional puzzle. The organic shapes I find for my subjects have been the perfect puzzle pieces because of their elegant and figurative lines. I'd use anything as my model as long as it served my need for finding a pleasing solution. It's a game I invented for myself called playing with still-life. This year I've changed the rules. This year I've simplified the proceedings. Or have I?

This year I set out to discover the beautiful possibilities that exist within the regular quadrilateral known as the square. It's not my first foray into being a square painter. Actually I hope that by embracing the square I'll become less of a square painter and ultimately find new freedom within my constraint. It will still take awhile to transcend the obvious before I begin to make the unknown known. That's why I've committed myself to creating ten 12" X 12" paintings per month. By the end of the year I will have made 120. It's not the only art I'll be making but I find it necessary to square off with the square this year. I fully expect to further my relationship with the unexpected. And who knows what else. And maybe I'll have a better understanding of what Lao Tzu meant by "the great square has no corners."

A River Runs Through It.

2010-01-29T11:31:00.001-08:00

Crumpled Cloth in a Crate

2010-01-28T17:10:00.000-08:00

Now available for purchase is my 2009 oil painting, Crumpled Cloth in a Crate, which measures 24" X 24" on canvas. The price is $ 2100.

Bowl of Lemons

2010-01-28T07:05:00.000-08:00

Dish Towel

2010-01-26T11:23:00.000-08:00

Vitruvian Wave

2010-01-15T17:35:00.000-08:00

Fish On a Dish

2010-01-13T12:29:00.000-08:00

Persimmon

2010-01-12T13:33:00.001-08:00