Hello.

The mid-February Nashville weather is just plain weird. Here on Valentines Day 2023 it'll reach a high of 65 degrees today. And...

HERE it is on Friday, the 24th, and it reached 80 degrees yesterday. I went to my art class in a short sleeved Orvis shirt and cargo shorts. It's now 41 with a predicted high of only 52. It's Spring, it's Summer, it's Winter again. The plants are going "hell yeah" and budding and even blossoming. Little do they know. 

On the bright side here's the entry into my online Gratefulness Journal today: "Nashville weather, for its perfect mix of moderate and surprisingly otherwise." 

I started that journal during the pandemic and, a lot like my blog, it suffers periods of neglect but I always come back to it. It's private to me, but maybe some inquisitive spawn of mine will discover it and share it one day after I've floated away. I am convinced it is good to me to reflect on my blessings, though I remain unconvinced that society has it right on who/what is doing the blessing.

I finished a painting yesterday that I estimate represents maybe 50 or 60 hours of devotion to light, color, texture, and reflection. It's called "reflection on the ridge" and owes to its existence my friendship with Rocky Alvey and if I counted the hours of light-watching in camping chairs at his home and photographic opportunities there (which most often required putting down my cigar and/or my glass of bourbon on the rocks), okay, maybe 100 hours. Maybe 200. Hmmmmm...

"reflection on the ridge", acrylics on stretched canvas, 2023 by scott merrick

I want to post an abstract in progress and I want you to look at it very closely and will welcome any advice in comments. I for one am leaning toward calling it complete. I'm calling it "vivid rorschach" for now...

"vivid rorschach", acrylic on stretch canvas, by scott merrick 2023

There. I've addressed the blog neglect issue for this day, and I hope you have a good one, whenever you may be reading/viewing this. Peace out.

It's the merry end of January

 ...and I'm pleased that this may be the last day I'll be putting brush to painting on a piece I've been working on for around a month. It is an attempt to capture the mood and lighting in my pal Matt Melon's small detached garage workshop in East Nashville, on a cold day when he was working and invited me and my buddy Rocky Alvey over to watch Columbo reruns on his laptop with studio sound hooked up, whiskey's in hand, and cigars lit. My plan is to gift it to him for his great new workshop under construction in Lyles, TN. Here's a panorama pic of that featuring Rocky and Matt: 

I took a photo of Matt at one point that was head-down, mask-on, torch blazing...

And here's the current state of the image I have been working on. I will post the "finished" one after my class today with master Charles Brindley. As Charles says, "the artist paints the seen and the unseen, often to share what contributes to the piece's whole. I know many artists who are literalists, tied to reproducing everything in great detail and accuracy. They are, by and large, the unhappiest people I know. This afternoon I will be adding a very few little details and a blended blue glaze layer that will bring the fire to life, and it will be complete. I'll add it below this version when it's done. Just sharin'...

(added later: the final, signed piece, delivered to the collection of Matt Melon on 012823

Good day on ya.

Why?

 Well, I don't know.

I just know the arrival of each day is the opportunity to discover how one's being at any moment is important. I'm working on a song, a painting, and a...what? There have to be three things, don't there? 

What's the third thing?

The song is this (dashed parts are phrasings I need to remember):

If-I-had a timemachine clock

that ticked while it tocked

I don't think I'd turn back its hands

I many not have had

as much as I want

but believe it's bout all I can stand

Ahhhh, retirement

Stayin' alive 

is the sole requirement

I did my time walkin' the line

and now that it's mine

I play all the time

It's warmed up to freezing

which has me believing

that I may go outside today

I got nothing to do

but write this for you

to sing what I have to say

Although you may not hear it

or come anywhere near it

I'll quietly sing it and play

You-may-not-be around

to hear the sound

but that goddamn tree fell anyway

instrumental break 

Ahhhh, retirement

Stayin' alive 

is the sole requirement

I did my time walkin' the line

and now that it's mine

I play all the time

instrumental break

I will put on my hat

my coat and my gloves

and take my dog out for a walk

it may sound lame 

but just the same

sometimes I wish he could talk

Scheduliberation

the ultimate vacation

I did my time walking those lines

and now that it's mine

I play all the time...

The current painting is of my friend and brother Matt Melon, he of Magic Metal Designs fame, from a photo I took of him working while my friend and brother, Rocky Alvey, and I sat watching Columbo reruns on Matt's laptop, smoking cigars, and drinking bourbon in his makeshift workshop in East Nashville on a  cold November day. Matt is welding and well, I guess I just love the photo image and wanted it to be (more or less) immortalized in acrylics on canvas, as if my painting it would do that. When I finish it I want it to live on the wall of the big shop he's building outside of Lyles, TN. I'm still working on it:

The third thing is you. I don't thank you enough. I don't tell you I love you enough. I need to work harder to do both of those things. Thank you. I love you. If I didn't have a mental image of you I would not be able to do this. I do. Maybe I should paint that. Maybe it's too vast to reproduce, or maybe too miniscule.

Happy 2023!

 Happy New Year, y'all!

We had a fun get together yesterday, the last day of 2022, at our home in The Nations Nashville. I didn't take any pics because I was properly dedicated to enjoying the moment and the unique group of people we had in the rooms. After record low temperatures and snow, and rain, and wind, the weather took mercy on us and we had temps in the 60s, allowing me to open both front and back doors wide. The drop-in party was cleverly scheduled for 1pm to 5, and the 30 or 40 friends, family, and neighbors amiably killed a case+ of beer, 2 magnums and 4 bottles of Segura Viudas Brut, an affordable but delicious bubbly which is a staple of our home bar, along with 3 bottles of red wine and maybe 5 of white. We had sent out a Paperless Post invite only a week before, figuring if only a handful of folks showed up it would all be good. Turnout was impressive.

It all went swimmingly well and I am thankful for everyone who showed up. I wish all of them a happy 2023, along with all of you, which I am well aware is just another handful, but clearly one with discerning reading tastes.

This morning we started out the year with a bottle gifted by a guest, and sadly I have no idea which one or which couple brought this for us. Going from a packed fridge to a nearly empty one, save for 6 new and diverse bottles of bubbly, we figured that before Lee Ann had to go into work to oversee a store deep-cleaning by a new service, we'd better get started. We opened the Prosecco, which was incredibly cold and pleasing. I did a little food prep while my love sought something New Years related to watch while we ate (we settled on the 2018 Steve Martin and Martin Short New Years special. I plated a meal we have often, Nova Salmon with sides on an Everything bagel. DElicious:

New Years morning gnosh

As we ease into the new year, I want to reaffirm my gratitude to life for keeping me along for the upcoming next ride around our sun. I am completely blessed, whether by God or Fate or just (and I mostly suspect this is the one) pure blind Luck. 2023 marks the 40 years I have known the love of my life, and just how did that happen? Just lucky I guess. Here's a pic from the past to celebrate:

5 years ago at Couples Negril in beautiful Jamaica

That is all for now. I have a dishwasher to unload. May you be as lucky as I in your own way for 2023 and always.

Brrrrrrr December

 Okay, it's not nearly as cold as most years at this time but I'll repeat that Tennessee cold is colder than any other because of the omni-present humidity. That humidity is cursed in the summer and the winter with equanimity. 

On a happier topic, I'm beginning work on a new painting, another dive into another arena of complete inexpertise (there is some uncertainty if this last is actually a word, but apparently Wictionary approves).

I had a chill (in every sense of the term) experience at my friend Matt Melon's detached garage workshop in Madison a few weeks ago, sitting with mutual friend Rocky Alvey, smoking cigars, drinking some Green River bourbon, and watching Colombo episodes on Matt's laptop while Matt worked (see https://www.magicmetaldesigns.com/ for how truly magical his metal artistry is). I snapped some pics and one of them is this one:

Matt Melon making magic

There are soooo many angles and objects in this image that I may well tame it down. On the other hand, that is what gives it its interest, so I may lean more toward realism than I have really yet to do. It's never boring, largely because if it seems to be getting that way, I will veer away onto other paths of decisions. Stay tuned.

I recently finished a pic I alluded to in my previous post (https://scottmerrick.blogspot.com/2022/11/december-2022-looks-to-be.html) and I'm pretty happy with it. Anyway, here are two stages of it--the first is what I brought into the workshop, and the second is what I consider the finished piece:

UPDATE 121622:

I attended the awesome Blended/Broken Color full-day workshop led by sensei Charles Brindley yesterday at Scarritt Bennet Conference Center and Charles made some suggestions for my "rocky's ridge" painting that I spent the whole afternoon implementing, (pictures above). Luckily for me, ten feet away from me in the full-to-capacity painting studio the amazing beautiful and amazing Amanda Shires was working on several absolutely beautiful abstract canvases. I got to meet her at the end of the day when Charles gathered the artists around my easel to view the final painting. I laughed when he told them "this guy came out of nowhere" to learn painting. Amanda was painting with her mother, Lisa, also a very capable artist, and both were really, really nice human beings. New adoring Amanda fan, check.

On another topic--Yesterday my brother Ed and I sat in on a Zoom meeting with our first cousin twice removed, Kathy M., who lives in California and who recently tracked me down via this blog. Her mother, the daughter of our half-aunt (nothing is simple), recently passed away and left behind what appeared in Kathy's background to be a dozen or so bankers boxes of letters and photographs. I won't be sharing these as they come my way, but childhood pictures of our dad, baby pictures of us with our mom, and the like  are exciting to look forward to. As of now the only baby pic I have of me is on the cover of my novel, Lives, and Kathy has already sent me another one. Who's that grumpy baby?

Mom and me at 4 months old

I look forward to continued correspondence with this distant newly in-touch cousin!

Finally (let's just go for it--is this the randomest blogpost ever?) I'm hitting The Blue Room Bar at Third Man Records Friday night, with my pal Rocky, for a show featuring the Lockland Strings, a group of East Nashville musicians who get together and perform a concert once a month or so. I am all giddy and expectatious (sic) to see Madi Diaz live, as well as to be introduced to a tidy handful of other performers I have not heard, until I put together this playlist on Spotify with one "record" from each artist who will be there. Feel free to listen, and I do recommend randomizing, if you can't make the show. (Note: Peter Mulvey will not be there, but it was the album with SistaStrings I found that features the most of them.)

Cheers! Have a lovely Winter Holidays season! 

Wait! I want to share that Thursday night we'll be attending "A Sonos Christmas," live at the Parthenon and getting to hear our marvelous, beautiful, talented, and, well, perfect daughter Miranda sing. She auditioned for the choir a couple months ago and was embraced into it, happily. Although I had the pleasure of attending the Timbre Cierpke Christmas Concert at a Nashville church this past Thursday and got to hear her sing, my honey has not and I couldn't be more excited to sit at the base of the golden Athena and share that experience with my life's love. Well, I couldn't be more excited until Friday at the Blue Room!

Now go be good and have fun!

December 2022 Looks to Be...

 ...a fairly normal month. Which is to say that, yes, anything can happen.

It's thickly foggy outside my studio window this morning, Saturday, 26 November, 2022. I have been delivering food orders for my dearest's business, Tinwings, for a couple weeks now and despite that twice-weekly addition to my schedule I do miss my painting classes with graphics master Charles Brindley, which are suspended until the first week in January. I took a lovely full day Brindley workshop on underpainting and paint application techniques a couple weeks ago, and did enjoy the drive up to his home in Adairville, Kentucky to do so. I'm just rambling here so stop me anytime. 

I finished my penitentiary painting (because at some point you just have to call it done) and I'm pretty good with it. 

After a still frame from Brian Siskind's brilliant video portrait of the abandoned Tennessee State Prison, "On the Inside"

The day of the painting class in KY I started a new canvas, which is an attempt to capture the mood of a photo I took up at my friend Rocky's ridge. Here's the photo:

Sunset on Rocky's ridge

The colors are beginning to work, as I apply layer after layer to the canvas. I think this will be a long effort. Yes, I expect it will. One pervasive challenge is implementing the transition between what is seen and what is not seen until it is painted. Charles says "We artists paint what is seen and what is unseen" and has said that "visual literalists must be the unhappiest people in the world." I smile.

My Life's Love Lee Ann and I went out last night! We were invited to go downtown on a Friday night, and though we don't normally venture out on weekend nights, our friend Michael Sharpe's Sinatra tribute set in the gorgeously decked out bar within the Hyatt Holston House last night was early in the evening, and we wanted to see the show mainly to support him. We were thoroughly entertained! Michael's voice is perfect for the iconic Rat Pack crooner style. Technically on target, he pays effective respect to his phrasings and is pitch-on throughout. I believe that those long pitch-perfect word endings can only be achieved by hours of rehearsal and a perceptive and self-critical ear. The trick in that is to do the trick without it sounding like a trick, and he's certainly mastered it. Michael also brings an infectious joy to his show--a little self-deprecating banter here, a sizable helping of music trivia there, the well-placed prop; he's got it all.

Michael Sharpe in a li'l Happy Holidays pose with my sweetie, Lee Ann

I have a rare day off with my honey today--Tinwings is traditionally closed on Thanksgiving and the following weekend. We have ambitious plans to relax around the house. A little day-drinking may well be involved. A nap. Certainly a nap. 

I hope things are well in your world and I say come on, December, come ON!

There and Time, Recorded 2020

In the course of doing a little YouTube management this morning I came across this little ditty I wrote several years ago while visiting my dear Godbrother, James Morrison. At the time he and his (also dear) family were living in a cozy little house on North June Street in Hollywood, just 3 miles, as the California Crow flies, from the famed HOLLYWOOD sign. I was in running form then. I will admit that running is something I miss from my life prior scheduliberation.

On a morning run that included Beverly Boulevard, probably something like this,

I started by humming the melody that generated the first line and the song took off. It was one of those that I finished in one day and it never took any later revision because I was satisfied with its gestalt. My current assessment of the performance/recording is that boy oh boy do I have some serious looks on my face, and...it's a pretty good song. I also like my rhythm patterns and yes, it's a pretty darned good song, despite the fairly common misinformation about the Einstein quote.

Please pardon the sleepwear. I was pretty much confined to the home for much of the pandemic and this video was a trial for a series that never came to be. I have to laugh at the Covid Beard in my profile pic at the time. Checkout Jimmy's website, linked above, and enjoy...

and just for good measure, here is an archived pic of him and me with our band behind us. JK, it wasn't really "our band," but the cast of the Western spectacular, "Diamond Studs" from the Alaska Repertory Theatre's season in I think '78. We're ancient history!

Peace out. Stay Safe and Well.

Where, Oh Where is November Weather?

 Hi. 

It's 7:09 a.m. on November 5, 2022 and it's 66 degrees of the Fahrenheit here outside my 2nd floor window beyond my desk. This time tomorrow, it'll be 6:09 a.m., as Daylight Savings Time sweeps in to give us an extra hour of sleep, or have us up an hour earlier, whichever way we roll. Here's a Ventusky grab built around a search for my specific address. I like Ventusky, like, a lot.

According to the Googly, the current temperature is 5 degrees above the average annual monthly high.

Average monthly temperatures for November (highlighted)

Another search return from a site called whereandwhen.net, sadly neglecting the capitalization of November, makes the comparison more drastic:

So, what's the happs?

I don't really know, but the folks at the Cumberland River Compact (the mighty Cumberland is about a football field away from my home in The Nations Nashville neighborhood) share some interesting discussion and links to resources to learn more. I highly recommend the read, and also spending some minutes of your own investigating the state of your home's change patterns due to global warming. If you're a denier by inclination, you may ignore this. That said, the length of time you (and our children) have to do so is dwindling by the day. We get an hour's slack tomorrow, but of course that will change back in the springtime. See ya.

November, comin' right up!

 Time's a'flyin'. As I always say, "Time is money and money is time and we ain't got all day."

One of my many bosses at Williams Island Club in North Miami Beach, Florida used to proclaim while stomping his diminutive frame through the about-to-open restaurant, straightening place settings, "It's only a job of work. Get it done!" I was the Club Manager and it never sounded as good in my nondescript Nashville accent as it did in his high-pitched South African one. 

So, I say to me own self this chilly October's end Friday morning, "Get it done."

I performed a proof-of-concept camping road-trip back starting Oct. 17, driving to Montgomery, Texas, that little lake town with its twin city of Conroe, to visit my dear older brother. On the way I stopped outside of Charlotte, TN to have a brief visit with childhood friend John Depriest, after fortuitiously passing his remote house and turning around at the first opportunity to do so. After driving halfway through Arkansas, I camped at Iron Mountain Campground at DeGray Lake, arriving there after 7 hours driving, around dusk, setting up my Oasis tent, sleeping in Casper, my new Kia Soul, on an air mattress in the back, awakening cold and on a deflated air mattress around midnight, blowing it up with the electric pump and pulling it into the tent, turning on a borrowed (thank you, Rocky!) ceramic heater, and awakening snug and warm in my sleeping bag to 36 degree pre-dawn. I broke camp in the dark and headed out to the nearby interstate Cracker Barrel for a big breakfast, only to discover it closed due to an overnight power outage. Around Texarkana, TX the interstate route became obsolete and I hit 300 or so miles of state highways, enjoying the fall colors and everything else about the drive. 

You can thumb through my pics at https://photos.app.goo.gl/E8B3LFXNQWtxJmFeA . It was a good trip in a number of ways, not the least of which was the chance to be with my brother, the other last man standing from our nuclear family, and visiting with old friends along the way. I really enjoyed the drive down to Texas City with Ed and our unproductive but relaxing fishing at "the longest fishing pier in the world," the Texas City Dike.

Fishing at the Texas City Dike

On the way back,  I stopped and had dinner and a spare bed at the home of childhood friend Ross Bandy and his lovely wife Donna. They are retiring together in 2023 and I was able to pass on now-expert advice about this new leg of life, for what it is worth. It's all about scheduliberation, you know. 
Now that I'm back home, I attended my painting class with Master Charles Brindley yesterday and did some more work on my current acrylics project, working from stills from friend Brian Siskind's award winning film, "On the Inside." Here's the film, and you can read more about it at tnstateprisonfilm.com. Thanks to Brian for his permission to screen-grab and paint. 

And here are some snaps of my first OTI painting in progress, on reclaimed 2x12 lumber:

At the very end of class, Charles gave me suggestions for how to approach the bars and I'll be spending the day today on bars, as opposed to in bars, or behind bars, to create the bases for varying washes that will retain the depth of the darkness within the cells and still convey the abandonment of the structure. This'll be fun.

More bars

More bars. I thought about taping for clean lines but the process for building up the negative spaces and tidying up their relationships with the bars is intriguingly meditative. There is much more to do before completion, including fixing that bottom left shadow of open door and thinking about whether the texture for the central open door is what I want.

did I waste 20 YEARS trying to "GO PRO"?

Hey.

My second son (technically my son-in-law, so as always kudos to his birth parents) Tim has created a short but fascinating video about music. If you are a musician, which you are if you make music, even if it's singing in the shower, you must watch. I promise it will make you feel good about yourself, in addition to exposing you to his own 20+ years career and all the promise it holds for the next decades. Do yourself the favor:

October? Really?

 Allllllllllrighty, then...

It's early October. I spent some time yesterday putting together a little 41 song playlist of one of my favorite songs, one we covered in Alaska Summer/Summersong back in '77, in The Last Frontier Band in '79, and on the cruise ships in (I think) '81. This new mini-infatuation with listening to versions of songs is made simple by Spotify and I'm having fun with it. If you have Spotify, I suggest listening in the app and sorting it by duration--that way you'll get any remasters/rereleases played back to back for comparison. And there's one lurking in there that's not a cover, but rather a song by the same name. I like to leave those in for fun. Fun fact: the 11+ "The End" Doors masterpiece was included in the search results originally and I almost left it in since in the duration sort it came at the end. Ha.

Listen (might take a moment to load):

 

On other fronts, I had a fun one-night camping experience at Cheatham Lock and Dam last week. I had intended to make it two nights but the first night's low was 46 degrees and the 2nd was predicted to hit 40 and I discovered over a long first night's "sleep" that I needed a little more gear. I have that now, and my upcoming road trip to Texas to see my much-loved bro' will be more comfy camping. It's a 12 hour + drive and I plan to break it up with a night camping at another US Corps of Engineers dam campground. I like dam campgrounds. Dam campgrounds are damn good. Here's the view from the fishing chair outside my new tent. This will soon be a painting.

pano at dusk, cheatham lake (really just a wide spot in the mighty cumberland river)

By the bye, I am loving my painting classes (really an "Open Studio") with Charles Brindley. I learn a little each time I am in the room with him, and the two classes a week for 3 hours duration are perfect. Here are the two pieces, one on canvas on one on upscaled 2x6 discarded lumber, that I most recently completed:

purple vetch, barbed wire, and montana

riders on a piece of brownland farm in franklin

That be all for the mo'. I'm not gonna promise to blog more regularly. Something about scheduliberatedness has made me comfortable with doing it when I do it and not when I don't. You should try it in all kinds of scenarios. It's a dam good thing (sic).