© Rose Marie Mercado Loves me, Loves Me Not Oil on Canvas, 18×24, 2007

“Dare I be so bold as to present my heart’s truth?

“The truth is that all artists are ‘Artists – First.’ (There is no other kind.)
One, however, doesn’t choose to be an artist.  One recognizes that one already is.  One hears herself, sees what belongs to her and claims it.”

–Gail Sher, The Intuitive Writer

My paintings are a happy lot. Brush strokes unleashed!  Each painting is an intuitive rendering of color and form.   A kaleidoscope of silent sounds.

Restless, free, spontaneous, sensual.  Sights and sounds flow into images that become painted narratives.

 “Art after all is but an extension of language to the expression of sensations too subtle for words.”                       –Robert Henri, The Art Spirit


My secrets are empty of hidden

  1. Each painting wants its joy

to be shown to and shared with the world, or sometimes simply shared with a solitary admirer.

Rose Marie Mercado, artist, seeks.

She, artist, surrenders.

You will find the intuitive intertwining of her abstract expressions conveyed in her brush strokes emblazoned across her paper or canvas.

First, there was watercolor (2000 – 2003, and sometime again soon).  Restless, free, spontaneous, sensual watercolor.  Rose Marie’s first paint brushes were dipped in watercolor paint.  With a natural affinity for the deft touch, her hushed swishes upon the cold-press paper astounded her.  Feeling unseen gentle force behind her elbow, guiding her own moving hand, she realized she was…painting!!! When she introduced napthol crimson and cadmium scarlet to marigold, squealing when the pigments blended to orange sunset or diluted to plum pink, she declared herself amid a dream manifested:  Rose Marie was actually painting! (Not just thinking about it.)

Later, there was oil painting (2004 – present, and not to be forsaken).  Cognizant, exotic oil paint. A kaleidoscope of buttery soft paint swirls atop her new glass palette.  Bigger, heavier brushes.  With a natural affinity for the bold touch, her noisy swishes upon the stretched virgin canvas stimulate a kinetic passion.  Feeling fire rising in her belly, guiding her cerebral murmurs, yielding to voices rising to bellow then receding to mellow, in sweeping gestures she unleashes the strokes.  Artist!

What she is today:  a mature, prepared visual painter — and writer — in her early sixties who has weighed the options and given herself over to pursuit of Art Habla, her term for both her contemporary abstract expressions in painting and for her blog stories about her art work and life as an “artpreneur.”

 “Art after all is but an extension of language to the expression of sensations too subtle for words.”  –Robert Henri, The Art Spirit