January’s Western Mini: Calf by Pond

These small watercolor paintings of a calf drinking from a pond are examples of this month’s ACEOs for my Western Mini Series. If you’re new here, ACEOs (Art Cards, Editions & Originals) are small, collectible original artworks. They’re intimate pieces meant to be held, looked at closely, and lived with not just scrolled past on a screen.

For this month’s series, I focused on a quiet western moments. Decembers ended the year with a cow skull at sunset so to kick off the new year a sweet scene of new life was just the thing. A calf stopping to drink, reflected back in the water below is the an absulute dream to capture in photography and had to be painted.

I love painting these ACEOs, there’s no room to overwork a piece. Every brushstroke matters. Color choices matter. Composition matters. I can’t hide behind detail or size. And I like that they make original artwork affordable to all people. These minis let me focus on mood, movement, and light. In this case, that meant warm browns and soft greens, loose reflections in the water, and letting the paint do what watercolor does best bleed, soften, and suggest.

Each ACEO in the Western Mini Series is an original. No reproductions. No duplicates. Even when I work from the same reference or theme, every piece ends up slightly different. That’s part of the appeal. You’re not buying a copy of something you’re getting a one of a kind painting that exists exactly as it is.

The Western Mini Series is something I plan to continue building over time. Some months will lean more rodeo focused, some more ranch or livestock based, and some may be something that I want to experiment with. ACEOs will remain part of that series, even as I introduce more small to medium sized originals in the shop.

I will occasionally paint a few extras at the beginning of a the month so I can get them out immediately for new subscribers but once they’re gone, they’re gone. If you see one that speaks to you, don’t wait too long these small pieces tend to find homes quickly. Any leftover at the end of the month are sold at art shows.

As always, thank you for supporting my work and for appreciating the quieter moments of the west right alongside the bigger bolder ones,

MERC

Eyes on My Art

Social media can feel like a giant machine built for people who want to go viral, become influencers, or turn their life into content. That has never been my goal. I’m an artist. I paint the American West, dark Americana, skulls, cowboys, military subjects, and sometimes the odd armadillo in cowboy boots. My work crosses a few different lanes, and that’s exactly why I want the right people to find it but it’s not for everyone.

If one of my pieces ever takes off, I’m not going to complain. But I don’t build my entire process around chasing a viral moment. Viral posts don’t guarantee that the people seeing the art even like my style. Sometimes it’s just the algorithm doing its thing. What I want is long term visibility among people who actually enjoy Western themes, skulls, darker tones, military influence, or a blend of these.

I post consistently because consistency is how people find you. But I’m not trying to game the system. I’m trying to show up so the people who would genuinely enjoy my work can recognize it when they see it. I mostly post finished paintings but like to add work in progress shots, my photos I use as references as well as a small bit of my life as a western artist. Nothing fancy, over edited, or over planned. Just the real parts of how I create. This lets people see my style across subjects so they understand the bigger picture of what I do.

There’s a big difference between being an artist who uses social media and being a “content creator.” I’m not trying to build a brand around my daily life, tips, tutorials, or the behind the scenes of every moment. I just want to share my art in a way that helps people who like this kind of work actually find it. If people enjoy what I make, I want them to be able to find it easily. That’s it. Social media is just one tool to help that happen. I’m not chasing trends. I’m not chasing fame. I’m just showing up, posting my work, and letting it reach the people who are supposed to find it.

I’m rambling,

MERC

A Quick Note About My Memory and Communication

I wanted to take a moment to be upfront about something that affects how I work and communicate. Over the last few years, I’ve been dealing with a noticeable amount of brain fog and short term memory issues. I’m not entirely sure what the main cause is it could be my fibromyalgia, it could be lingering effects from my past brain surgeries, or it could be from spending eight years in my 30s on the maximum dosage of gabapentin. At this point, it’s probably a mix of all of the above.

If you reach out to me and I forget to reply, or if I say I’ll work something up for you and it slips my mind, it’s never intentional. I’m not ignoring anyone. I’m not brushing people off. Sometimes my brain just… drops the ball. It’s pretty rare this happens but considering the brain fog does not seem to be improving probably best to make y’all aware of the possibility.

I keep notes, reminders, lists, and alarms, but things still fall through the cracks from time to time. If that happens, please don’t hesitate to message me again or give me a gentle nudge. I genuinely appreciate it. Most of the time I’ll see the reminder and think, “Oh right, I meant to do that,” and get right back to it.

I value the people who support my art whether you follow my work, collect pieces, share posts, or even just take the time to message me. The last thing I want is for anyone to feel ignored or unappreciated. Communication just takes me a little more effort these days, and sometimes my memory doesn’t cooperate the way I wish it would.

Thanks for your patience, and thanks for sticking with me. Creating art is the easy part keeping track of all the little pieces around it is where things get tricky. Your understanding means a lot.

MERC

December’s Western Mini: Cow Skull

For December’s mini, I wanted something that feels like the end of a long year reflecting quiet and warmth. I went with a cow skull set against a desert landscape at sunset. It’s a simple subject, leaning extra western. I’m a bit of a bone hunter myself and it’s always a treat to find a skull especially with horns in a forgotten pasture. I know not all people find joy in old bones but the finality of nothing left but bone also fits for the last month of the year. I also just love those warm sunset colors, especially this time of year when everything is cold. Soft golds, reds, and dusty browns happen to be my favorite palette so there is that too. This month’s minis lean into that glow and wrap the year up with something grounded and steady.

Thanks for being here for another month of these tiny Western paintings. I’m excited to keep this series going into the new year. You can find the Western Mini subscription here but if you’re not a subscription person you can do a single perches as well as a one time thing for the same price.

MERC

You’ll Be Seeing More Original Art in My Shop

For years, I created art simply because I enjoyed it. It wasn’t a business. I wasn’t posting every piece or trying to keep up with a release schedule, and I definitely wasn’t thinking about running an online shop. I painted what I felt like painting mostly being cowboys, skulls, rodeo scenes, military stuff, little studies, and oddball pieces that made me laugh. Because of that, I’ve built up a huge personal collection over the years. A lot of it has only ever lived in my studio or on my own walls.

When I finally decided to turn my art into a business, I didn’t upload everything at once. I didn’t want to overwhelm anyone visiting the site with twenty different directions or endless pages of listings. I wanted my shop to feel intentional, not chaotic. So I added a handful of originals, a few prints, and slowly started building from there.

But here’s the funny thing, every time I post a piece that isn’t available for purchase, someone messages me wanting it. Every time I share an older work I made years ago “just for me,” that’s the piece someone falls in love with. It’s a great problem to have, but it also told me it’s time to start opening the gate a little wider.

More Originals Are Coming to the Shop

So, here’s what’s changing: I’m going to be increasing the inventory on my website and making more of my original work available. I have plenty of finished pieces that have never been listed anywhere, and people have shown enough interest that it makes sense to give them a real home online.

For now, I’m focusing heavily on originals. Prints will still be part of my shop, but I want to prioritize the one of a kind pieces for a while. Prints take time with proofing, testing paper, adjusting colors and originals are ready to go. They’re also what people keep asking for.

More print options may come later, especially for some of my rodeo pieces and the cowboy portraits, but for the time being, originals will be the core of what I release.

What You Can Expect in 2026

If you’ve followed my work for a while, you know I’ve done a lot of monochromatic Rodeo Ink pieces the last year. While I’ll still do monochromatic work the Rodeo Ink pieces for 2026 will bring multiple colors back into my work.

One thing that’s not changing is the rodeo work. There will be more rodeo pieces, and the rodeo series is something I’ll continue to build on. I have a lot of reference photos from different events over the years, and plenty of ideas lined up that I haven’t even sketched yet. That series is staying.

Another shift you’ll notice is in sizing. I’m going to be offering more small scale originals. Not just ACEOs, those will continue as part of the Monthly Western Mini subscription, but more paintings and mixed media pieces ranging anywhere from 5×5 up to 11×17, and a lot of sizes in between.

Small originals are easier to ship, easier to frame, and more accessible for collectors who want something unique without committing to a huge piece. They’re also fun for me to create. I’ll still create larger work when the subject calls for it, but the smaller pieces will make up a bigger portion of my releases.

A Slow, Steady Expansion

I’m not dumping my entire archive onto the site at once, but over the next few months you’ll see the shop grow. More originals. More variety. More pieces that have been sitting quietly in my studio. If you’ve ever commented “Is this one for sale?” when the answer was no there’s a good chance you’ll find something you love in the new releases.

Thanks for sticking with me while my art shifts and grows. This next year is going to be busy, colorful and full of new work.

MERC

October in Overdrive

If you’ve noticed I’ve been a little quiet lately, October is the reason why. It was one of those months that felt like it was made up of nothing but long drives and late nights. Every month I usually make the trip from the middle of Kansas down to the middle of Oklahoma, about a nine hour drive round trip, but in October, four times but I had to do it ten times through October. Add a six hour round trip to Kansas City on top of that, and by the end of the month I was absolutely worn out.

The Kansas City trip was to pick up my original paintings from the printer after they’d been professionally photographed for prints. The ladies now running my old print shop are wonderful, though things work a little differently there these days. The color matching process isn’t quite as hands on as it used to be, so from now on I’ll be doing a little extra proofing myself to make sure everything looks right before ordering more prints. It’s a learning curve, but part of running your own art business is adapting when things change.

On top of all that driving, I also participated in a local art show with our community art group. The weather didn’t exactly cooperate, so the crowd was smaller than we hoped early on, but it picked up nicely toward the end of the night. I was really happy to see how many people stopped by to take part in the creative activities we had set up including the step-by-step watercolor pumpkin tutorial I put together and the coloring sheets we made for kids. One of our goals as a group is to make art more approachable for everyone, and it’s great to see people of all ages jump in and create something of their own.

Now that the temperatures are dropping, we’re settling in for winter and getting ready for what’s next. I’m starting a few new paintings this week and working on a special project for our town that I’m really excited about.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, I also had a birthday last Saturday. We didn’t do much to celebrate this year, but honestly, after the month I had, a quiet day was exactly what I needed.

-MERC

November’s Western Mini: Spiderwebs

This month’s Western Mini is something a little moodier for November. Each is a 2.5x3.5” watercolor originals featuring spiderwebs stretched over a fall sky. Each one captures that late autumn feeling when the air’s a little heavier, the fields are mostly quiet, and the last bits of light hit everything in that reddish purple glow.

The webs are left in reserve, unpainted, against silhouettes of tall grasses or maybe old corn stalks left standing after harvest. those half forgotten corners of the field that always seem to hold the morning dew just right.

What makes this piece special is that it’s all watercolor. The bright whites of the web aren’t inked or drawn in later. The webs are the untouched paper underneath and the dew drops on them have color and darkness within. It’s one of those techniques that takes patience, but I love how it gives the web a soft, natural brightness that fits the scene perfectly.

These minis remind me a little of those fall nights playing a game my family called “hide and go scream.” At dusk we would silently run around the field or in the woods as the sky got dark, everyone was “it” and when you found each other you would scream and both run the other direction. My little brother would scream every time he hit a spiderweb.

If you’re part of my Monthly Western Mini subscription, you’ll be getting one of these spiderweb skies in the mail soon.

October’s Western Mini Series: Sonoran Desert at Sunset

I’m excited to finally announce the start of my Western Mini Series! It’s a new monthly collection of small original paintings, each inspired by a different corner of the American experience.

Every month, I’ll release a new themed set of 2.5” × 3.5” original watercolor paintings. These minis are perfect for collectors who want something small and unique.

For October, the theme is Sonoran Desert at Sunset. Think warm skies, saguaro silhouettes, and that hazy pink-gold light that settles over the desert just before night falls. Each painting captures a moment from that landscape, and no two will be the same.

All Western Mini Series pieces come with free shipping for the US and Canada, and once they’re gone, they’re gone. If you are outside the US or Canada I can create a custom order or subscription for you so feel free to reach out.

— Merc

Free Shipping

Good news all of my artwork now ships free within the U.S.

I’ve decided to simplify things on my end and make it easier for everyone ordering within the States. Instead of separate shipping charges at checkout, the cost of shipping is already built into the price of each piece. That means what you see is what you pay no surprises, no extra fees.

For my patrons outside the U.S., I’m still happy to ship to you! Squarespace just doesn’t make it easy to set up different shipping rates for each country, and I’d rather avoid overcharging or losing money on postage. If you live outside the U.S. (including Canada), just send me an email and I can set up a custom listing for you with the correct shipping included.

Thanks for understanding and as always, thank you for supporting my art.

— Merc

Armadillos & Cowboys: A New Series

If you’ve ever sat by a campfire, you know the rhythm of it and can picture sparks floating into the night, hear the strum of a guitar and feel the warmth of the fire on your face. And just when everything feels steady and familiar, something crashes in the underbrush around you as then scurries into the glow of the firelight. Not anything dangerous but an armadillo jus smooth brained, armored, half blind and completely unbothered.

That little image stuck with me and grew into this series. Six watercolors where cowboys meet their unlikely companions in scenes that are sometimes funny, sometimes quiet, and always just a little unexpected.

The collection includes:

• Fireside Companion – a cowboy with his guitar, and an armadillo perched to listen like an old friend.

• Barroom Troubadour – the smallest of the set, showing music and nostalgia under dim bar lights.

• Heads I Win and Tails You Lose – a pair of pieces meant to be seen together, playing on chance, fate, and cowboy luck.

• He Says Howdy – A happy little guy dawning a cowboy hat.

• Armadillo Rodeo – a playful spin on Western life, replacing a bronc with our high jumping little guy.

Each painting is its own story, but together they celebrate the humor and heart in everyday cowboy life. The armadillo isn’t just a sidekick here it’s a reminder that the West is full of surprises, and sometimes the smallest characters leave the biggest impression.

You’ll find a collage of all six works above, but if one of these moments speaks to you, originals and prints are now available in the shop. You can start here with the collection.

Until next time, may your coffee be strong and your trail full of surprises (so long as your horse doesn’t spook),

MERC

Chasing Sunsets and Patience: Planning Adventures That Never Go Exactly as Planned

Planning a vacation sounds simple enough in theory. Pick a destination, book some flights, pack a bag, and go. In reality, when your life revolves around someone else’s unpredictable schedule, it quickly turns into a careful balancing act between hope and frustration. Right now, I’m juggling the plans for three very different trips: the sweeping landscapes of the Sonoran Desert, a quick visit to family in Washington State, and the rugged peaks of Glacier National Park. And, if everything aligns, a final escape to Big Bend.

The tricky part isn’t picking destinations or figuring out what to see; it’s navigating the invisible calendar of someone else’s availability. Booking too early feels risky, like locking yourself into something that might crumble, but waiting too long is just as painful when every flight and cabin seems to disappear overnight. I’ve found myself staring at maps and hotel listings late into the night, silently negotiating with the universe, wishing I could control both time and tide.

Despite all that, there’s something thrilling about this uncertainty. It forces me to be flexible, to imagine more than one path to an adventure, and to appreciate the small victories like finally snagging a hotel, finding a hiking trail that isn’t overrun, or discovering a roadside diner that feels like it’s been waiting just for us. Planning trips has become less about perfection and more about embracing the process and taking in the little moments.

These trips are about more than just getting away they’re about inspiration, art, and breathing in a fresh perspective. Each landscape, every county road, and time spent holding my husbands hand is fuel for creativity. From the desert’s golden hues, the green forests of the Cascades or glowing blue glaciers they all spark ideas for new paintings, sketches, and stories I can’t wait to share. And the best part is experiencing them together with my husband Alex. Even when the timing is messy, even when things don’t line up perfectly, it’s still an adventure.

At the end of the day, some of my most memorable experiences have come from the parts that didn’t go as planned. A wrong turn on a hiking trail can lead to a secret waterfall and caves. A sold out hotel might push us into sleeping in the truck. The unpredictability adds a little magic to each trip, and when you’re with the right person, it doesn’t feel like a problem it feels like a real adventure. Not to glamorize it too much since when I can’t fully plan out the trips we do miss out on a lot. But in the end, even with the frustration of not being able to plan anything, I wouldn’t change my travel partner for anyone else.

Safe travels 

MERC

Art & Depression

saying goodbye before dropping him off for deployment

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how much harder it is for me to create when I’m sad. People sometimes talk about great art being born out of suffering, but that’s never been true for me. When I’m depressed, the hardest part is simply picking up the brush. Once I do, I can lose myself in painting for hours, sometimes sixteen straight. but getting started feels impossible. And yet I know that if I can just push through that wall, I’ll come out the other side feeling lighter. My creativity doesn’t come from depression; it comes from living, from loving, from noticing the world.

Right now, sadness feels especially heavy. My husband has just deployed, and even though we can text and I’ll get phone calls a few nights a week, the reality is that I won’t see him in person for nine months though last time it ended up being 11 months. On top of that, three of my kids are back with their other parent. Having them leave is always complicated. It’s painful in ways I don’t expect anyone outside of similar situations to really understand. But I do still have one of my daughters at home, and that helps more than I can put into words.

Physical pain has been a part of this story, too. When my trigeminal neuralgia was at its worst, I couldn’t function, let alone paint. Fibromyalgia doesn’t stop me in quite the same way, it mostly weighs on my legs, but it’s still something I have to push through at times. The truth is, both emotional and physical pain can shut down my creativity if I let them.

But here’s the thing, art doesn’t take away the pain. It doesn’t erase the loneliness of deployments or the ache of missing my kids. What it does give me is something to hold onto. A painting I can look at and say, I made that. It reminds me that even when I feel stuck or hurting, there is still a part of me that can create something beautiful. And that matters.

Keep in mind my sadness and depression is situational. If you or someone you love has depression seek the advice of a healthcare provider. Mine is form non ideal situations mostly being missing my family.

Lets hope for happier times to come,

MERC

A Peek Into My Sketchbook: Rodeo Studies from Abilene, Kansas

A couple of weeks ago, I spent a Friday night at the Wild Bill Hickok Rodeo in Abilene, Kansas. Rodeos have always been a part of my life, but these days I see them with both a spectator’s excitement and an artist’s eye. Instead of just snapping photos, I came home and filled a few sketchbook pages with quick studies. None of them are polished, but that’s kinda the point. My sketchbook is where the raw ideas land. These rough drawings help me figure out what I want to paint.

sketch of steer wrestling

Sketch of horse used for bareback bronc riding and young child on a sheep for the mutton busting event.

Flipping back through these pages, I can already tell which studies might turn into bigger pieces down the line, and which ones will just live quietly in the sketchbook. Both are valuable sometimes a page is just practice, and sometimes it’s the spark for a whole painting. Either way, sketching after events like the Abilene rodeo helps me stay connected to the Western life I paint. I know I’ve talked about it before but sketchbooks are not supposed to be pretty or perfect.

Do you keep a sketchbook or journal for your own work or hobbies? I’d love to hear how you use yours. And if you enjoyed this peek into mine let me know maybe I’ll share more. Also I fixed the comments… took me long enough to figure that on out.

MERC

“Longhorns”: My First Cattle Painting and Why I’m Selling It

I’ve painted a lot of things over the years from colorful skulls and wild animals to dusty desert landscapes and campfires surrounded by mountains and pine but I’d never painted cattle until the spring of 2020.

This watercolor piece, titled “Longhorns,” was my very first attempt at capturing the curious nature and beautiful coloring of cattle on paper. There’s something that brings me deep joy at their presence reminding me of home. I tried to capture that curious joy in this 11x15” painting.

But this isn’t just another artwork for me. I’m selling “Longhorns” for $300, to helping a dear friend cover the costs of cancer treatment. When someone you care about is hurting, you want to do something, anything, to ease the weight. For me, that something is painting. I know the amount is low to cover something as expensive as cancer treatment but this is to cover a migraine treatment specifically that her insurance won’t cover.

Whether you’re a fellow lover of the American West, a collector, or someone who simply wants to support a meaningful cause, this piece is a chance to own a bit of my story while helping someone else write a new chapter in theirs.

“Longhorns” is painted on archival watercolor paper and ships unframed, ready for you to mat and frame however you choose. It’ll be listed on my shop today, and will ship within five business days.

Thank you for reading and thank you for being here.

With gratitude,

MERC

get Longhorns here

When Your Face Is on Fire: Creating Art Through Trigeminal Neuralgia

Just out of surgery. My husband was on a 48 hour layover to be with me when traveling for work.

Imagine being stabbed in the face with a knife that’s on fire. Not once. Not twice. But over 40 times a day.

That’s how I describe trigeminal neuralgia, a rare nerve disorder that made it nearly impossible to function, let alone live a creative life.

Before the pain took over nine years ago, I was a tattoo artist. I loved the work. From the atmosphere of Calaveras, the connection with clients, making art on living skin to my coworkers making me laugh until I cried. I loved my job. Then one day, in the middle of a session, it happened. My face lit up with a pain I can only describe as violent. I couldn’t hide it. I had to excuse myself and eventually, I had to leave that career entirely.

At its worst, trigeminal neuralgia ruled everything. The smallest things like wind, speaking, eating, brushing my teeth, the vibration of walking across a room could all trigger an episode. I was trapped inside my own skull. Food became a battle. Movement, a gamble. Even my ability to create was gone; I couldn’t paint through the pain.

At first I thought it was dental pain and oh boy I had a lot of unnecessary dental work in that time finally resulting in the extraction of a totally health tooth. At that point the dentist told me it could not be my teeth that were all in great condition that I needed to see a neurologist about the possibility of trigeminal neuralgia. My insurance being what it was I had to go see my primary care provider first. That provider told me to suck on sour candies for a month and come back as she could not believe what me dentist told me… this only made things worse. At that point I booked with another provider and got my referral to neurology. The first neurologist I saw fed my different nerve medication over the next six months ALL of those medications I ended up being allergic to. She also sent me for MRIs but the imaging didn’t really show anything. At some point she moved and my insurance sent me to another neurologist. Bless this second neurologist instead of trying to feed me more medication that was not working or was trying to kill me he actually listened to me and sent me to talk to a neurosurgeon. In steps Dr. Amadio my hero. Dr. Amadio first sent me to get an MRI at an imaging facility that could produce better images than the hospital I had been going to. There they clearly saw my artery was knuckled into that nerve causing all the pain. My neurosurgeon was disappointed in my prior neurologist and primary for not sending me to the correct MRI facility but in the end he saved me. The first step back toward myself was a microvascular decompression surgery. It brought the pain down from over 40 episodes a day to “only” seven. That’s not what most people would call livable but when you’ve lived in a firestorm, even smoke feels like mercy.

My neurosurgeon wasn’t satisfied, and I wasn’t either. That’s when we turned to Gamma Knife radiation. The day of the procedure was brutal I was in pain, vomiting, my vision blurry until I couldn’t open my eyes. But within 24 hours, things began to calm. Over the next three months, the daily stabs faded into the past.

The cost? I don’t feel the left side of my face anymore. I have to be careful when I eat. If I look down, I tend to drool, not the most glamorous side effect, but one of the last lingering reminders of what I’ve survived. Also talking to my neurosurgeon I learned I probably would have suffered from trigeminal neuralgia around the time I hit 60 but the stress of losing primary custody of my kids through a nasty divorce caused the pain to hit 30 years sooner that it should have. That train wreck is a story for another time.

Once the episodes subsided, I slowly returned to painting. In the quiet of recovery, art became not just a way to pass time, but a way to stay sane. It was one of the only things that didn’t trigger the pain. I could sit still, hold a brush, and build something from color and water and memory. I painted the American West. the grit, the struggle, the stubborn beauty of it. It felt like painting myself back into the world. It was also a huge distraction from the depression of not getting to see my kids everyday but again that’s for another time.

Now, years later, I still live with the effects of that time. I’ve built a new artistic life rooted in the things that bring me joy and makeup who I am. My work reflects the landscape of recovery, the scarred but resilient, quiet but fierce. And while I wouldn’t wish trigeminal neuralgia on anyone, it taught me something about survival. About adaptation. About the beauty in what’s left after everything else is stripped away.

If you’re living with chronic pain or illness, especially as a creative, I want you to know you’re not alone. Even when it feels like the world has gone silent around you, your voice still matters. Your art still matters. And you can make something powerful out of the ashes.

The pain is still there but not as bad in the least. Now its a constant cold burn in my numb face and dealing with fibromyalgia in my lower back and legs exacerbated by years of driving 16 hour days to see my kids but I will take this any day over what I was trying to survive.

To the other artist with chronic illness or disability, I see you. Feel free to reach out and share your story. We were not made to go through this life alone.

MERC

After the surgery you can see the scar behind my left ear.

Morning Sketchbook: Blueberries, Coffee, and Family

The morning I painted this started the way I wish more days did. with a strong cup of coffee, a quiet moment, and my sketchbook open to a fresh page. While my youngest was off picking blueberries in my grandfather’s garden, I sat nearby, letting the stillness of the morning guide my pencils and brush.

The result is this loose little sketch, inspired by the shapes and shadows of the berry patch but filtered through something older. The colors and style echo the art of my great grandmother, who painted prolifically in the late ’70s and early ’80s. She’s from the other side of the family, but I like to think she would’ve appreciated the way both sides came together here: her spirit in the paint, and my grandfather’s legacy in the soil.

I didn’t set out to paint something profound just to capture a sliver of what the morning felt like. These are the moments that fuel my work lately where generations overlap and the past doesn’t feel so far away. A few scribbles, a mug of coffee, and a little boy in his great grandfather’s garden. That’s more than enough inspiration for one morning.

Do you ever sketch outside with your coffee? Drop a note or photo in the comments I’d love to see what your mornings look like,

MERC

Back Home, Sort of

Back home or at least back in my house in Kansas.

photos from the 2nd day of my trip

After a long haul across the western half of the country, I’ve landed, for now, back in Kansas. Though I live here, “home” is a word I’ve never quite settled into comfortably. Returning to my home state, even briefly, brought a sense of grounding I didn’t know I needed.

These photos were taken on the second day of our trip. Quiet moments captured between the stormfront and the sagebrush. I shot them with future paintings in mind, framing color palettes, textures, and lighting that tugged at something familiar. The red dirt, thistle blooms, wide sky that always feels like it could tip over are all things I would like to incorporate into my works.

The full journey spanned over 2,000 miles in just a few days. We rolled from the middle of Kansas to Oklahoma, looped back, then made a straight push through Colorado to Wyoming and Utah hitting Idaho before Oregon and finally reaching Washington. The drive was a blur of heat, gas station coffee, and changing scenery. It was exhausting but and deeply inspiring.

I’m hoping to eventually build out a system that lets me post more actively while I’m on the road. Right now, I don’t have the setup to do that so editing photos, uploading artwork, and writing posts all have to wait until I’m stationary again. Ideally, I’d invest in a travel ready editing setup (dreaming of a decent laptop here) so I can stay connected and keep creating no matter where I am. The road feeds my work, and the longer I can be on it, the more stories I can tell.

Until then, I’m doing what I can with where I am. More art is on the way with some of it born right out of the dusty shoulders and twilight skies you see in my photos.

Thanks for riding along,

MERC

From Sketch to Sale: How I Sold My First Piece on Reddit

Bull rider 2020 by Merc McDowell

Selling original art online can feel a lot trying to get a stuck calf’s head out of a hay ring (that really happened) there’s effort, frustration, and a whole lot of guessing which direction to go. Over the years, I’ve tried sharing my work across different platforms, from Instagram and TikTok to Reddit. And while some places offer more engagement than others I just wanted people to see and appreciate something I put so much time and love into. I had an Etsy and a Redbubble before as a way to make sales but in the end those were not the right fit for my style or clientele. However, every once in a while I would get a comment or DM with an offer on a piece.

The first piece I ever sold on Reddit wasn’t the biggest piece I’ve done, but it was one I loved. It was only a 9x12 inch watercolor but was the first bull rider I had ever painted. I fell in love with the movement of the painting. I can still feel how proud I was of the piece.

I shared it in a Western art themed subreddit. It was a smaller, niche group compared to the bigger art communities, but one that seemed like a better fit for my subject matter. There is nothing wrong with posting in larger art communities but I wanted a very targeted audience.

I tend to get a decent response with a few comments and a few messages per post. Nothing like the response I get from posting photos in a western lifestyle subreddit but it was still encouraging. Some folks said they loved my work. A couple asked if I sold prints or originals. But here’s what I quickly learned: most people lose interest the second they find out a sale has to happen through direct message. No checkout page ensuring I wasn’t a scam just me and them figuring it out in chat. For a lot of people, that’s understandably a dealbreaker.

But one person didn’t hesitate about this bull rider. They messaged me directly, told me how much they loved the piece, and asked if it was for sale. I gave them the price, we sorted shipping details, and the payment came through without a hitch. Just like that, the bull rider had a new home and I had my first Reddit sale.

I don’t post art on Reddit much anymore. In the broader art subs, I worry my work would get buried. In the Western lifestyle groups, I’ve had better engagement but I share photography there, not paintings though I should change that. That said, I don’t regret posting my art there. That one sale taught me something important: the right buyer can show up anywhere. But you have to make it easy for them to say yes.

If anything, the experience reminded me why having a website matters. People need a clear way to support artists especially when they’re serious about buying. A solid storefront takes the friction out of the sale and makes it feel less like bartering in the DMs and more like investing in something meaningful as art is an investment.

So no, I haven’t sold dozens of pieces through Reddit. But I did sell one that mattered. And sometimes, especially in the early days, that’s all it takes to remind you that your work belongs in the world.

If you see me on Reddit say howdy,

MERC

Gathering Grinds: How to find Local Shops to Display Your Art

My 31 Nash park in front of Ralph and Izzy’s

When I first moved to my current town, I didn’t know many people. I’d left behind my old studio, my tattoo equipment, and the art community I had slowly built elsewhere. I found myself drinking a lot of coffee because, well, I always drink a lot of coffee and that led me to a little place called Ralph & Izzy’s Coffee Shop.

I got to talking with Ralph, one of the owners, and casually mentioned that I was a painter. He asked to see my work, so I pulled out my phone and showed him some photos of my paintings. Right then and there, he asked if I’d be interested in hanging some of it in the shop. I said yes, and that simple conversation led to months (now years) of rotating artwork on their walls.

Today the shop is under new ownership and goes by the name Gathering Grinds. When the change happened Jen, the new owner, asked me to keep displaying work and I was more than happy to oblige. We all want our local areas to flourish and to support small business and this arrangement supports small business and lets small business support local artist.

Why Local Spaces Matter for Artists

Not every artist gets gallery representation or an online shop with traffic overnight. But every artist can start local.

Coffee shops, bars, breweries, boutiques, plant shops, yoga studios, and even some restaurants are always looking for ways to liven up their walls and what better way than with local art? These are places where people linger. They sip drinks, wait in lines, talk with friends. It gives your work time to be noticed. And better yet, it tells your town that artists live here.

And yes, I’ve made sales from the coffee shop. Not every month, and not always large pieces, but often enough to know it’s worth doing.

How to Find Places That Display Local Art

Start by exploring your own town. Go into places you already love and look at their walls. Do they already have artwork hanging up? Is it prints or originals? Are they framed? Is there pricing, or is it just decorative?

If you see any signs of rotating artwork, you’ve already got a lead.

If not, ask. It can be as simple as, “Hey, would you ever be interested in featuring local art here?”

You’re not selling them something, they don’t have to buy the art, you’re offering to make their walls more interesting and give their customers something to talk about.

Keep an Album on Your Phone

Most of the time, people won’t go home and look you up. You have a very short window to make an impression. That’s why I recommend keeping an album of your best work on your phone, clean, clear photos of your paintings, drawings, or prints, with no clutter in the background. Think of it as a pocket sized portfolio.

If someone seems interested—show them. Don’t overthink it.

Practice Talking About Your Work

I get it: I’m not a natural extrovert. But you don’t have to be a public speaker to talk about your art. You just need a short way to describe what you do. Think of it like an “elevator call” not quite a pitch, but a way to answer when someone asks, “What kind of art do you make?”

Here’s mine:

“I paint cowboy art and Western life. Lots of cowboys, cattle, rodeo, skulls and cactus. Mostly watercolor and some pop art with ink. It’s a mix of fine art and storytelling.”

That’s it. No need to oversell or sound fancy. Be real, be proud, and be ready.

Don’t Wait to Be Discovered

Local spaces may not be galleries, but they’re a great way to build visibility and momentum. You never know who’s going to walk into that coffee shop and fall in love with your work.

You don’t need a massive following, just the confidence to say, “I’m an artist,” and the willingness to share what you do with the people around you.

That’s how it started for me at a coffee counter, in a small town, over a strong cup of black coffee.

Best of luck,

Merc

Start, Stripes and Small Town Rodeos

Watercolor painting of bull rider from Herington Free Fair and Rodeo July 7, 2023

Happy early 4th of July y’all!

Beyond the fireworks and barbecue, one of my favorite parts of Independence Day is that it lands right in the heart of rodeo season. Across the country, small towns break out the red, white, blue and the rough stock. There’s just something special about rodeos that happen this time of year: the dusty grandstands packed with families, the smell of funnel cake, leather and horses, the cheers for the little cowboy who got thrown from a sheep mutton bustin’ picking himself up off the dirt and dusting off those pint sized blue jeans.

Here in Herington, Kansas, our free fair and rodeo usually happens right around the Fourth. This year, it’ll be rolling through town July 10–12. I’m sad to miss it since I’ll be on the road but plan on hitting a rodeo in my home state and then a couple local events back in Kansas in August and September.

Even when I can’t make it in person, I always make a point to support local rodeos whenever I can. They’re more than entertainment they’re community. They’re also an incredible opportunity for artists like myself to soak up inspiration.

Unlike big indoor arena events like the PBR, many small-town rodeos will let you bring your camera in. That means you can capture your own reference shots: barrel racers mid-turn, broncs tossing riders skyward, team ropers throwing lassos, bull riders looking for glory. I’ve taken some of my favorite reference photos and gotten the best ideas for future paintings at outdoor rodeos lit by the summers setting sun.

If you’re lucky enough to be near one this week, go. Cheer loud. Clap for the pickup men. Sing along with the clown. And if you’re an artist, take your sketchbook or your camera and see what speaks to you. The soul of the West lives in these little arenas, and there’s no better place to witness it than from the bleachers of a hometown rodeo.

Wherever you’re spending your Fourth of July I hope it’s full of joy and a little bit of dust in your boots.

Sincerely withing you no ER visits this year,

MERC