Moods

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