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

Studio to Saddlebag: What I Bring on a Road Trip

mix of art supplies for my latest adventure

There’s nothing quite like a backroad at golden hour, dust kicking up behind the truck, and the horizon stretching wide open. Road trips aren’t just escapes for me they’re part of my art practice. The West isn’t something I paint from memory alone. I have to go out and experience it. Whether I’m chasing the light in Monument Valley for a watercolor, photographing curious cattle., or just pulling over to sketch a gnarled mesquite tree, I like to travel light but never unprepared. Keep in mind length of the trip and space available makes the biggest impact on what you can and can’t bring in your saddlebag (or backpack, or glovebox). If all you have room for is a small sketchbook and a mechanical pencil that is ok.

For this entry I’ll be going over what I’m bringing on this ten day trip from Kansas to Washington. Space is very limited we did decide to bring the camper but I will have my husband, kids and dogs all with me.

Art Supplies

I always bring the largest sketchbook I have room for and handful of trusty pencils. A portable watercolor kit is super nice when you’re sitting around a campfire but this trip we’re going with watercolor pencils and a separate small watercolor pad. Even without a watercolor kit I still bring an assortment of brushes to use to paint with coffee some mornings.

• Sketchbook

• Sketching Pencil (4H-6B and woodless)

• Tortillons (blending stumps)

• Erasers (vinyl and kneaded)

• Pencil sharpener

• Charcoal Pencils (including white)

• Micron Pen Set (005-08)

• Watercolor Paper Pad

• Watercolor Pencil Set

• Small selection on paintbrushes (Liner, round, angle, flat and filbert)

Photography Gear

Most of the reference I use in my paintings comes from my own photography. I’ll pack my old and trusty DSLR and my most versatile lens. Since we are taking the camper I’ll actually bring multiple lenses but note if this was just what I could fit in a saddlebag I would only have one lens and make it work.

I always shoot with light, perspective and storytelling in mind: low angles of longhorns, close-ups of boot-worn stirrups, dramatic shadows cast across the landscapes all bring the image to life. If it doesn’t make an interesting and dynamic photo it’s not going to translate to a piece I want to spend days or weeks developing.

• Camera Bag (I use a padded backpack)

• Camera (I use a Canon 6D)

• Battery Charger

• Extra Battery

• Extra SD Card

• 24-105mm Lens (if I have room I will bring a 300mm as well and a fixed 50mm)

Practical Tools

My road kit includes:

• A solid pair of cowboy boots

• A pair of comfy driving shoes

• My favorite hat

• Sunglasses

• A thermos of black coffee

• A gallon of water

• Sunscreen and tallow moisturizer

• A physical map in case there is no service

There’s also a headlamp, a pocketknife, and a pair of worn gloves tucked into my door panel. I’ve learned not to underestimate roadside surprises.

Sentimental Must Haves

Not a necessity on this trip but in past trips a recent polaroid of my family is something that rides with me if they are not along for the journey.

When the Camper Comes Along

If I’m towing the camper like this trip, I pack differently. There’s all the storage I could ask for. But even when it’s just the truck, I make it work. Art doesn’t need much space just purpose, some creativity and a patch of light. This time the camper is going to be full up with the kids and dogs necessities but I can bring more lenses for my camera and my own coffee and coffee press.

Closing Thoughts

It’s not the gear that makes the artist. Pack what you need and what you can, but don’t let the lack of supplies stop you. If all you have is a hand sized sketch book and a single pencil wrapped in your bedroll, that’s enough. Use what you have, make it count.

What do you bring on your own creative road trips? Drop it in the comments. I’m always curious what rides shotgun with other wanderers.

Keep your boots dusty and your coffee strong,

MERC

6 Things that Inspire Me

As a full time artist it’s easy to start to feel uninspired when you feel like you have to create instead of doing it solely for the passion and joy. The short answer to fixing this is to stop, go out and do the things that bring you inspiration. It’s significantly more helpful to already have a list of the things that bring you inspiration than to try to come up with them in the moment so I challenge you to make your own list. It’s rarely going to be found scrolling online but maybe some of my list will bring you inspiration as well. My inspiration comes from visiting real places, meeting real people, and getting my own hands dirty in that red dirt and dust .

Here are six things that keep my creative fire burning:

1. Early Morning Photography

Before the sun fully rises, there’s this soft golden light that drapes across a land like a worn blanket. That’s the hour I’m often out with my camera, catching the cattle as the morning fog burns off. These photos become my references, not just for anatomy, for the mood. The way light bends around a horn or silhouettes the animal is more important to me than the paintbrush I choose.

Two bulls knocking horns

2. The Smell of Leather and Old Wood

I know it sounds strange, but scent is tied directly to memory — and memory feeds everything I paint. The smell of saddle leather, barn dust, sun-warmed rope, even old pickup dashboards. That’s the Western life. Those smells are a kind of mental sketchbook. When I walk into a tack room or an antique barn, ideas come rushing in. Yeah, sometimes it’s for leather work and not paintings but still counts.

3. Stories My Grandpa Told Me

I love listening to Grandpas stories. He’s not one of those old men who sit on a porch all day talking. He’s as hardworking as ever and does not repeat himself. If you’re smart enough to listen when he speaks you will learn a thing or two. His stories are short and to the point but still paint the best pictures. My favorites are of him and his horse Nugget and their adventures and riding around the Nevada desert. Some are as short as, “Yep, we were seven miles from home and something spooked him, he threw me and took off for home. I had to walk the seven miles back. I didn’t get in trouble for being late.” Some are a bit longer and like how he met my Grandma but that’s for another time.

Steve Doran and the infamous Nugget sometime in the 1940’s

4. Vintage Country & Dark Folk Music

Sometimes, inspiration comes through the record player. I work to Marty Robbins, Waylon Jennings, and Loretta Lynn in the background mixed with modern voices like Corb Lund or Colter Wall. There’s something in outlaw country and alternative folk that feels like it takes you to another place. I can’t listen to The Brothers Comatose without getting goosebumps and watching a movie in my head as all of it becomes inspiration for paintings. The one that inspires me the most is my husband writing new music or refining the stories he tells through his country americana style. Getting to listen to a small idea blossom into an entire world is amazing. Music sets the tone for my brushwork and creativity breeds creativity.

5. Old Western Comics & Dime Store Cowboy Novels

The Pulpy over the top drama of old Western comics and Cowboy short stories is a gold mine of inspiration. I love the art in the comics from the 40’s and 50’s and although it has defiantly inspired some of my pieces it’s the stories they tell that are the best inspiration. I like stories where the good guy wins or have a well crafted redemption arch. I love finding tattered copies of forgotten dime store novels and gently flipping through during quite times.

Forewarning if you are going to read vintage works remember what was acceptable in the world the years they were published.

Merc in her camper reading Dime Western Magazine

6. Exploring Forgotten Towns

There’s something magnetic about a small town with old architecture and if you're lucky working vintage sighs. I will prefer taking backroads instead of the freeway any day. As my Grandpa once said, “You can drive across this whole country and never see any of it.” Old neon signs, ghosted lettering on brick, half-collapsed barns and that feeling you get in limital spaces that once held so much life. These places carry a mood that I can bring back to the paper. So sit down and sketch a while.

The Takeaway?

If you feel uninspired get out and do something you enjoy.

Got something unexpected that inspires you? I’d love to hear it.

Follow me on Instagram for behind the scenes sketches and the songs that shape each piece.

Make time for youself,

MERC

Why I Paint the American West

My grandpa on Nugget and great grandpa, name of horse unknown, in the 1940’s

I was on horseback before I could walk.

My grandfather put me there. He’s the real cowboy in the family. A Navy submariner, a carpenter who built his own homes and barns, and a horseman through and through. Whether it was on Decatur Island when I was little watching him shine his boots, or on his small ranch later seeing my favorite mares hour old baby, being around him was where the West took root in me.

He is a man who worked with his hands and loves his horses. His father before him was a cowboy too. That legacy doesn’t live in a museum for me but in memory, in the smell of hay, in the creak of saddle leather, in the cattle running towed me from the other end of the pasture because they think I have cubes.

I grew up around Herefords in the Pacific Northwest. Not exactly the postcard version of the West, but no less authentic. That’s part of why I paint it: because it’s not always what you think it is. Cowboys don’t only live in deserts. They live in Montana and Kansas and in the wet green valleys of western Washington.

My work leans Southwestern, sure. Partly because I’ve spent most my adult life in Texas. I’m drawn to prickly pear, Texas prickly poppies, and the dry golden tones of wide open country. But I paint the American West because it makes me happy. It’s not always solemn. Sometimes it’s funny like an armadillo wearing a cowboy hat or one stuck in a boot. I like the unloved things such as opossums, rough coats, things that make people wrinkle their noses. I see beauty in them.

My favorite flower is tough enough to bloom in heat and thorns. That feels honest to me. So does coffee and blackberries. I may be a little Texas but western Washington will always be part of who I am. Kansas can suck it… I’m kidding. Kansas is beautiful and if you don’t believe me go for a day hike in Kanopolis state park.

My first cowboy hat was an ugly painted purple and white Resistol with a feather in it. I was maybe three but I loved it. My first boots were rubber boots to trudge through wet pastures as a kid but my first cowboy boots were pink, worn for my mom’s wedding around age eight. The rodeo was the first sport I ever cared about. I loved watching the bull riding. Now as an adult I cuddle my best friends Holstein named Daisy. Help her brother with his Hungarian gray steppe cattle. Well my husband helps more I always think I’ll be more help than I am but taking photos of each animal is really my job when working cattle. I also assign myself as calf cuddler. Y’all calf cuddler is an important job.

Someday I want my own herd. Not just for the art references out my back door but because it’s part of who I am. The dust, the animals, the way the sun hits worn wood and old leather. Painting the West is how I stay close to my roots. It’s how I carry on a story that started long before I picked up a brush.

And at the end of the day, that’s really it.

I paint the American West because it brings me joy.

Keep riding, keep painting

MERC

Boots, Brushes and the Open Road

cowhide and satin self portrait

There’s a certain kind of quiet that lives out here between the lowing of cattle and the wind through dry grass. That’s where my art starts. Not in the studio, not with a sketch, but out in the world. Boots on the ground, camera in hand, soaking in the places most people don’t get the pleasure of experiencing.

I paint the American West not because it’s fashionable or nostalgic, but because it feels true. There is beauty in it. There is shadow. There is strength. It’s in the posture of the tired ranch hand, the curve of the steer’s horn and the dust that sticks to everything.

I used to be a tattoo artist until chronic nerve pain ended that chapter. But my time there reinvigorated my love and drive to make art. Now I paint full time, working mostly in watercolor, though I stray into oil, acrylic and ink when the piece call for it.

Right now I’m living in a small Kansas town with a basement studio. However, we are fixing up a vintage 1953 Spartan camper to be part mobile studio part home for when my children eventually fly form the nest. The absolute dream of vintage small space living with my husband and dogs on our own ranch with the ability to hit the road. The best of both worlds with the choice to travel and let the changing sky and shifting terrain shape what I paint next as well as a place to call home that my children can always come back to.

This journal, Boots to Brushes, is where I’ll be sharing behind the scenes glimpses, studio days, stories form the road and what it really looks like the build a life around art. If you’ve ever felt pulled toward wide open spaces or wanted to see how a painting comes to life from sketch to finished piece, you’re in the right place.

Keep chasing those dreams,

MERC