Moods

Open the door in the dark.....

And in a terrible sigh
The plants they wither and die
Without a heart made of rocks
You wander endlessly lost

Light in a box
Window of frost

Exhaust.....

Fires burn faster in wide open places --
Sing for the bellowing
Cry of the dazed
Hypnotic murmuring making complacent
Hours and eons
Hint at the faintest
Sight of forever encapsulated
In laces

And fade.....

So went the turn of the times
Long gone and drifting through life
All that you know is a fly
On a wall ready to die

So you cry...

And the door closed for an age.

Collage and spoons on canvas
36"x48"
©Copyright 2004 Jason J. Loya


I have been hesitant to post this piece because it is best viewed in person. While this simple fact goes for all fine art, it is particularly important in this case. In Sales Job, the art is in the details. At first glance, the piece almost always provokes the very reaction that I had hoped it would. It is only upon close examination that the truth of the piece is revealed. The spoons have been positioned in exactly the shape of the most standard 3:4, 27" television. They are collaged with articles on human struggle and/or suffering. My studies of media and awareness of their strategies, goals, and perceptions of you (the audience) have served as a foundation for this piece. Please take the time to take a closer look at this collage. The subject matter is one that I take very seriously and feel particularly passionate about.....And to those who only look for a moment or two - ENJOY!! :-D

This is a time in my life
A time in my life

This is a fly on a knife
A worm with a wife

This is the time of my life
This time the timing is right

What looks like water is dry
Sellable pride
Stay out and hide
Just don't go inside

I lied -------------

And the floor fell through the roof
And the medicine hides the truth

...All in one room.



©Copyright 2004 Jason J. Loya

©Copyright 1997 Jason J. Loya

This painting comes from a period in my life when I was unsure of many things. Life can be scary and confusing for a nineteen year old. This and other paintings at the time represent a dark period in my work when I used the medium to explore creative space that is hard to find when looking but easy to tap when present.

Ok - so here's my greatest piece ever created... yeah - just kidding. It's just a random sketch but I thought I'd share. It's calld The Letter F. Let me know what you think...about this one or any one on the site. Thanks!

©Copyright 2005 Jason J. Loya

This is my latest creation. It is a piece which took me in a new direction altogether. It contains over 600 feet of string and 6-7 entire large tubes of oil paint (white, unbleached white, and black only). It took about three months to complete as the layering of string and paint took care and precision. The appearance of this piece varies, depending on the angle, intensity, and type of light in which it is viewed. This creates a contrast between the smoother, lighter areas and the deeper areas of dark shadow...constricted, layered permanence... It is extraordinarily heavy for its size.


Oil, string, and newspaper on canvas with twine and charcoal powder

24"x30"

I did this in 1995 while still in high school. It remains one of my personal favorites after all these years. It represents to me a spirit of harmony in raw impulse which has been difficult for me to duplicate since I did this painting.

Mixed media on cardboard
16"x20"


©Copyright 1995 Jason J. Loya

Untitled
©Copyright 1997 Jason J. Loya
This is a piece that I painted in 1997. It was a rough time in my life...

Acrylic on canvas
16"x20"

©Copyright 2002 Jason J. Loya

This is a painting that I did in 2002.
Acrylic on canvas
24"x30"

Had a thought
But never bothered
To unleash the
Madness on her
Would she leave or
Bleed me sober
Would it be
The debt I've owed her
That'd become a
Conscious cloaking
For the melancholy moaning
Or her timely
Grin bestowing
On my chemical disowning
Prisoner impassioned rapture
Wouldn't have or
Have to have her
Beg and plead
Disaster comforts
When the nature of the beast
Comes to terms with its disease.

©Copyright 2005 Jason J. Loya

Yes, these are dots. In 1993, I was 16 years old and crazy enough to make this stippled picture. It is the first and last of its kind that I have done. At the time, I had just begun a relationship with a girl who would become my "high school sweetheart" - hence the unusual subject matter (for me anyway).

Ink on paper
9" x 9"

©Copyright 2003 Jason J. Loya


Another example of my work when I slip into a random abstract expressionist frenzy.

Oil on canvas
20" x 30"

©Copyright 2003 Jason J. Loya
Oil and foil on canvas
30" x 40"

This painting is one of my abstract expressionist pieces that simply flowed out over the course of a few days. I was inspired by the nature of the universe and our place in it. The paint is so thick that although I painted it in 2003, it is still drying in places.

©Copyright 2002 Jason J. Loya
Acrylic on paper
20" x 15"

This is a self portrait that I did in 2002. It only took a couple hours to finish but it is my favorite painting on this subject.

One a.m. and
Quiet sinking
Makes itself aware.
Old illusions
Prove to be
No more real than
Me.

Time has passed,
Skin is shed,
Bitter taste I knew is dead
So remains
Discomfort:

Prime time
Bland reality
No more pipe dream
No more rope swing;

Had a dream that woke me,
Had a peace that wrote me,
Friend who had some pictures
In a puzzle --
Missing link.

Long ago the bonded
Broke.

Thanks for coming
Thanks for nothing
Wish the best had never bothered

In the end or in the present,
All comes down to this:

Nevermind the madness,
Pick up all the pieces,
Clean and neat and all smoothed out,
Longing for some creases...

...the time goes by...

©Copyright 2004 Jason J. Loya

Sublimation of Grief
Oil on Canvas 48"x30"
©Copyright 2005 Jason J. Loya

This is my latest creation. It took many MANY months to complete and went through several dramatic changes before I settled on this composition and style. I was inspired by Salvador Dali and other masters of surrealism but personalized the concepts for myself. The beetles in this painting are taken directly from a specific and vivid dream that I had back in September of '04.

Guitar Cardboard, acrylic, metal, string, and glue on canvas.
©Copyright 2001 Jason J. Loya

This is a piece that I did in 2001, using collage and a cubist perspective. I have always found my guitar to be an inspiring subject.

(2003) Oil on canvas 30"x40"
©Copyright 2003 Jason J. Loya

This painting is my jab at the culture industry. I designed it on my computer, printed it, and reproduced it EXACTLY on canvas at five times the original scale. The imperfect yellow rectangles avert attention away from the harmony of the balanced solids. Likewise, the solids minimize the spirit of the freeform yellow rectangles. You will find it difficult to focus, just as you do in this post-postmodern era in which art is manufactured for mass consumption and out of style before the day is over.

Ars Poetica is one of my all time favorite poems. It is written by Archibald MacLeish and should be read aloud -- and savored word for word:

A poem should be palpable and mute
As a globed fruit

Dumb
As old medallions to the thumb

Silent as the sleeve-worn stone
Of casement ledges where the moss has
grown --

A poem should be wordless
As the flight of birds

A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs

Leaving, as the moon releases
Twig by twig the night-entangled trees,

Leaving, as the moon behind the winter leaves,
Memory by memory the mind --

A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs

A poem should be equal to:
Not true

For all the history of grief
An empty doorway and a maple leaf

For love
The leaning grasses and two lights above the
sea --

A poem should not mean
But be.

By Archibald MacLeish

Acrylic on canvas
24in. x 30in.
©Copyright 2002 Jason J. Loya

It's Turkeys in Space and Time -- need I say more?

©Copyright 2004 Jason J. Loya

It's about war. Yeah - read into it.

Pretend to see the lights.
Wait for something
Right.
Even though
The ceiling's coming down;

Look around in spite.

Broken sets of
Rusted
Spirits lost in flight
Dying by the lot,
Made to wilt and rot
Are screaming over there

And bleeding from the hair.

Betrayal from the pair,
Imminent despair,
A ghost seen as before
Knew who was in store
For
An old fashioned,
Deadly game of
War.

It was he who held the scar:
Pitiful, bizarre--
He died in utter pain
Clutching at his heart--
A world in disarray.

Blame Shame
Innocent Excuse
For Turbulent
Demise. Goodbye.
Sigh--
Pretend to see the lies
They're bright--

Don't forget to write.

© Copyright 1999 Jason J. Loya

Oil and particle board on canvas
30in. x 30in.
© Copyright 2001 Jason J. Loya

This is what the title says it is. It is a portrait Erika Larrondo. I sort of found my own version of cubism with this one.

...And all at once, a muffled roar
lingered in the air...
Crisp precision emptiness
whispered loud and clear --
But what becomes of fairness
and the truest of the lies?
Indifference and solitude
seem only quaint and near;
Wisdom warns of weariness
and then merriment descends
With all the lonely lineage of
long lost lines in sand
Beneath the tainted surface of a man...
...And so it goes -- hand in hand
with the error of our ways.

Just bow your head
and breathe a sigh
Of well deserved relief --
-- for in the clearing up ahead
You'll find your wicked thief:
the Unsuspecting Criminal,
All flowery and keen
beneath a pink umbrella
With a mallet and a scythe.
Don't you see eye to eye?

© Copyright 2004 Jason J. Loya

Oil on canvas
30" x 40"
© Copyright 2003 Jason J. Loya

This is a painting that I completed in 2003. It deals with the human struggle between cold hard will and warm flowing passion. I often experience this struggle. The key is to find a balance where both will and passion can co-exist, feeding off each other, and promoting growth.

For anyone who wants to know more about Al Jezeera and the press coverage of the Iraq war, or even if you think you already know a lot about it, I HIGHLY reccommend the film "Control Room." Rent it, buy it, or borrow it. If you ever think about "freedom of speech" -- what it means and how it is practiced, you must see this film. I gurantee it is not one that will receive ANY attention from mainstream American media. Despite this, it is an incredibly balanced, honest, and informative film -- a genuine eye opener. Here is a link for much more information on this piece: CONTROL ROOM

Project X
Oil, acrylic, pastel, pencil, wire, and cardboard on canvas
48in. x 30in.
©Copyright 2002 Jason J. Loya & Robyn T. Gorgos

This is a painting that has a very cool story behind it. A talented artist and a good friend of mine for the past twelve years, Robyn Gorgos, co-created this piece with me. He was living in San Diego at the time and I was here in L.A. He would usually come up to visit every month or so and we decided it would be a good idea for each of us to work on a canvas and exchange them the next time we got together. Robyn and I have different styles but many similar influences. Each time we got the chance to work on the piece, it had changed. It allowed us to gain a new perspective constantly. We had to add something to the piece and even shift the focus without taking anything away. It was a great challenge. In the end, the canvases had changed hands five or six times. One turned out great -- the other just never quite felt right. This is the one that we like.

This one is best read aloud.


a sqeek, a chirp, cccchurp chuurp churp, rp
anonsensicallineof - stop to dot - complicated ramblings
Squeak Squeak Squeak eek
a nonsensical - stop to dot - neverending - stop to dot --
Squeak Squeak Squeak
andsoandsoandso so.
I am trying to pay attention but
Squeek Scweek chirp
andsoandsoandso
She speaks and speaks and speaks
andsoandsoand

Send me away from wherever I came...
aname aname a name...

Breathe real hard and a sound comes out
Breathe and go out --
We need to find a place to live
We need to find our place and live!
a place a Place A Place...

and a small piece of lace.
squeaksqueaksqueak.

© copyright 1999 Jason J. Loya

Composition with Woman and Chair
oil on canvas
40" x 30"

This is an oil painting that I did in 2003 in honor of two of my greatest artistic influences. It is my own composition made from a combination of VanGogh's Chair with Pipe and Picasso's Femme Assise dans un Fauteuil Rouge (Woman in a Red Armchair). I created a collage out of pictures of the two great paintings and then copied the collage onto the canvas. I learned a lot by doing this piece: specifically, I had the opportunity to absorb the techniques of two great artists at the same time.

"Believe nothing...merely because you have been told
it...or because it is traditional, or because you
yourselves have imagined it. Do not believe what your
teacher tells you merely out of respect for the
teacher. But whatsoever, after due examination and
analysis, you find to be conductive to the good, the
benefit, the welfare of all beings -- that doctrine
believe and cling to, and take it as your guide." ~Buddha

This is a poem that I wrote some time in 1994. It followed a walk that I took on that same night.

I took a walk--
I don't know why,
To see the trees
Side by side:

They stood there staring or
Sleeping,
Not caring.

Two black shadows dark
But firm
Stood their ground or
Must have learned
That in the night by
Clouded moonlight
I'd come walking
To catch the sight
Of two dark lovers
Or swarthy brothers

Both there standing,
Each alone
But there together in place like stone.

Below my feet and beneath
The trunks of two great trees,
I saw a dark spot on the ground:
Black oil dark spot,
Small and round.

I could not wait by the phone all night,
So there I stood
On a dark spot
With none but these two trees in sight.
What they mean
Or why I am here but there,
I just can't say
But at these two silhouettes I'd stare.

Ask me not of
The oil spot or of
Birds in winter trees--
The ones that stood before me then
Were never full of leaves.

I had seen much more
Than I thought I'd seen
On any night before
And all that came to mind was:
Why?
Simply put,
To save some time,
Without the trees, the spot, the night,
I'd wait too long and never die.

So take the time to see dark trees,
It doesn't matter how--
For any better time to look
Or know
May as well be now.

© Copyright 1994 Jason J. Loya