The Ocean Beach Wall

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

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?

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

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)

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

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

Workshops at the Jay Mercado Studio

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

The Village Market

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

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

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

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

Fish Cup

The Art Studio

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

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

The White Tablecloth

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

Still Life with Electrical Socket