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Jim McLoughlin Art

Jim McLoughlin ArtJim McLoughlin ArtJim McLoughlin Art
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Gallery

Beach Break

16" x 12" oil on canvas

Interlude

16" x 12" oil on canvas

Trabuco General Store

16" x 12" oil on linen board

Sierra Flow

16" x 12" oil on linen board

Downstream

16" x 12" oil on linen board

Redemption

11" by 14" oil on linen board

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About Me

I first began to dabble in art at the age of eight, drawing figures from the front pages of the New York Daily News. While growing up in Brooklyn, my art teachers encouraged me to pursue a degree in Fine Arts, but more practical considerations prevailed. Instead, after my years as a Queens College student and a New York City taxi driver, I packed up my ’74 Chevy Vega and drove to Los Angeles to earn a master's degree (MPA - Health Services) at the University of Southern California


Midway through my forty-year career in healthcare management, now married to Susan and with two daughters, Katie and Julie, I followed my hunch to revive my artwork -- moving beyond the doodles that once filled the margins of my notepads at work. I bought some paints and brushes. 


In recent years, I’ve come to appreciate more fully that whatever challenges we face in life, the act of raising a paintbrush to a blank canvas is a simple affirmation that the creation of beauty is within reach. My life experience has taught me that it is a privilege to have both the skill and freedom to create any work of art and an honor to have that art on exhibit for others to appreciate.


If you’d like to perhaps purchase an original or giclee, please click on the above menu option for my Etsy account or email me at McLoughlinJim93@gmail.com .


Exhibitions & Awards:

  • Masters Level 2nd Place Award in Acrylic/Oil for Nordic Coast in Spring Reflections Exhibition by Saddleback Art League at the Mission Viejo Library
  • 2nd Place Award for Tropical Wood by SoCalPapa in their show: Omnivision Exhibition: Art Across Boundaries. Category of Abstract.
  • Award for "Best in Realism - Landscape" for Turn of Autumn, in "Autumn" group exhibition, Rancho Santa Margarita Bell Tower Community Center, September - October 2025
  • 2nd Place Award for Spring Forward in "Floral Expressions" group exhibition, Rancho Santa Margarita Bell Tower Community Center, June - August 2024
  • Masters Level 3rd Place Award for South Bay Sentinel, as part of 2024 Spring Exhibition, Saddleback Art League Spring, Mission Viejo, CA
  • City of Hope Exhibitions, Irvine California: March 2026- August 2026, August 2025 to March 2026, March 2025 to August 2025, August 2024 to March 2025, March 2024 to August 2024, August 2023 to March 2024, March 2023 to August 2023, August 2022 to March 2023
  • First Featured Artist, Solo Exhibition, gallery launched with ribbon-cutting ceremony, Rancho Santa Margarita Bell Tower Community Center, Nov 2019 – Feb 2020. 
  • Laguna Beach Art-a-Fair, Summer of 2007


Memberships, Community Involvement

  • Board Director, RSM Cares Foundation, 2020 - current. Leadership role in initiating, organizing and promoting Visual Arts in the Rancho Santa Margarita community by engaging and showcasing local artists, from high school students to seniors, at our gallery at the RSM Regional Belltower Community Center. Follow us on  http://Instagram@rsm_cares_art_gallery
  • Founder and Artist Member of Art Hub, RSM Cares Affiliated.
  • Spearheaded and organized 2025 RSM Cares Fine Arts Fair as part of Chamber of Commerce sponsored Rancho Family Fest
  • Saddleback Art League - Masters Level
  • California Art Club -- Associate
  • Oil Painters of America -- Associate
  • SoCalPapa - Member


Group Exhibition: City of Hope, August 2022 - February 2023

    Solo Exhibition: Rancho Santa Margarita Community Center November 2019 - February 2020

      About "Julie"

      Julie can speak, but only with her eyes.  Our daughter has Rett Syndrome. A decade after putting away my paints and brushes, I finally had time to resume my painting in retirement. It was a stretch for me to start with a painting of Julie, my first serious attempt at portraiture.  


      When Julie first saw the completed portrait, she looked confused and obviously didn't make the connection that it was an image of herself.  But after a couple of days and a few of my attempts of "That's you, Julie!", a look of recognition and a broad smile lit up her face.  


      Julie sees the painting every day on the stairwell wall as she rides the stairlift to and from her bedroom.  "That's you, Julie", I remind her sometimes as we pass the painting, and her eyes linger on it for a special moment. 


      As Rett Syndrome guru, Dr. Alan Percy, so poignantly put it about the girls:


      "'The eyes have it'.  Her eyes, windows to the soul, take us to cherished places within her heart.  Her eyes do more than see us. They touch us.  Every human emotion is whispered, sung, shouted by her dancing, sparkling eyes."


      Yes, I captured Julie's eyes in my portrait of her.  


      I can die now, I thought.


      No, not really.

      About "Redemption"

      When I painted this scene, I thought I was capturing a single moment in one person's life.  I didn't know that the painting would eventually connect two women, living on different continents, women who had never met -- but who both saw something of their own journey reflected in it.


      In March of 2026, I submitted my new artwork for the biannual art exhibition at the City of Hope Cancer Center in nearby Irvine, California. I was grateful to then learn that the painting had resonated with people there, particularly with Karen Henka Minnie, a cancer patient. Here’s an excerpt from the speech she gave at the City of Hope Opening Reception:


      “When I was asked to speak to you this evening about my cancer journey and how the art and aesthetics in this building have affected my healing and well-being, I immediately thought of an interaction I had with Nicolas, one of the City of Hope Ambassadors, a few weeks ago… We happened to stop in front of a group of paintings that were mostly landscapes and Nicolas pointed out the painting that most resonated with him - it’s a serene scene by the artist Jim McLoughlin of a woman sitting at the edge of a pond in a meadow as she looks up at a snow-capped mountain. Nicolas told me that the painting induced a sense of peace in him. I was astounded because of all the paintings I was admiring, that particular painting resonates in me the tranquility I feel when I’m at my home in the hamlet of Old Forge New York… That one painting of a young woman staring at a mountain sparked a conversation that not only led to an unexpected connection, but it also helped calm my anxiety and fears and to forget about my health and my plight for a while.”


      I emailed Karen’s speech to Katherine, the woman depicted in the mountainous scene. At her suggestion, I had titled the painting Redemption. Katherine’s response:


      Dear Jim,

      Thank you so much for your beautiful email. Reading your words moved me deeply. I am truly touched by everything you shared about the painting, the exhibition, and the way Redemption has resonated with other people. Knowing that it brought peace, reflection, and even comfort to someone going through cancer fills my heart with gratitude.


      I wanted to tell you why I called that photograph Redemption.


      The picture was taken in front of the most sacred mountain in Cusco, called Ausangate. It is considered a great Apu, a healing mountain spirit, and the Q’ero people, who live in the Andes, revere it as a sacred mountain. By one of those mysterious coincidences in life, I connected with a woman who lives facing this mountain, and she guided me on that walk. When I reached the lake and looked up at Ausangate, I truly felt an act of redemption.


      The closest way I can describe it is this: it felt the way I imagine Moses must have felt when he climbed Mount Sinai to receive a message. That day, I knelt before the mountain and looked at it, and in my heart the mountain spoke to me. It said: “We have walked so much.”

      And yes, we had.


      The last fifteen years of my life had been very hard. About ten years ago, I went through thyroid cancer, and thankfully I came through it. Then, six years ago, I went through a very painful divorce. After that, I moved from Argentina to Peru in search of peace. I now live in the Sacred Valley, surrounded by mountains, with my daughter, my alpaca, and my little dog.


      When the mountain said, “We have walked so much,” I fell to my knees and cried and cried and cried. I released everything I had been carrying for so many years. In that moment, I felt free.


      So when I received your painting, I thought: Wow, this is the mountain giving that sacred moment back to me as a gift. Something so intimate, so unique, and so meaningful had been seen and transformed through your art. And now, hearing all the experiences the painting has gone on to create in the lives of others truly amazes me and fills me with happiness. It is beautiful to think that something born from such a personal and healing moment could also bring comfort, peace, and connection to other people, especially women going through cancer.


      If there are women who feel called to experience this sacred mountain for themselves, I would be truly happy to take them there. It is a very special place for me, a place of healing, peace, and deep spiritual connection, and I would be honored to share it with others who may need that kind of solace.


      Thank you again for your sensitivity, your art, and for reaching out to me. Your painting has touched me very deeply, and it means so much to know that Redemption continues to live and speak to others.

      With warmth and gratitude,

      Katherine


      And, as Karen said in her speech at the City of Hope:


      That’s the power of art - it fosters relationships, it allows us to immerse ourselves in other worlds, it stimulates creative thinking, and it births imagination.

      About "Homestead"

      It seemed that time stood still as Padraig and I stepped out of the car in front of the iron gate and stood looking at the old house. It had been forty-five years since I had last seen this house, the same length of time since I had seen cousin Padraig himself.  It was the family reunion that had brought us together at long last in Leitrim County, Ireland.  


      They changed the roof, I said.  The new owners had replaced the old thatched roof with some kind of corrugated sheet metal.  Now the old house had the look of abandonment.  


      "Can we go up and take a look"?  


      "I don’t see why not", said Padraig. "Doesn’t seem to be anyone around.  Ah sure, noone would mind anyway".  


      And so the two of us strode up the lane, our shoes squishing in the soggy grass – dress shoes they were as we had just come from Uncle John’s funeral.   A flood of memories cast its spell. This was the childhood home of Padraig’s mom and mine.  A family of ten lived in that house – three rooms and a fireplace and a few kerosene lamps. This is the farm my mom had taken my two sisters and me to visit when I was four years old so that she could see her father one last time.  After leaving Dad at the dock in New York, we had taken a ship, then a train, then a car to get here.  We looked around in bewilderment when we finally arrived.  To me, a kid accustomed to playing on the sidewalks of the Bronx, the farm looked to be the loneliest place on earth.  Almost a full year we had lived in that house, while Dad stayed home to keep his night job at the Tip Top Bakery.  


      And so, some of my earliest memories are rooted in this farm: warming ourselves by the fireplace, the cow birthing a calf, my grandfather killing a chicken, mom and us kids cleaning out the chicken for our Christmas feast, waiting for the postman to deliver a letter from Dad, wandering alone in the fields.  These were the gifts for my formative years. 


      Padriag walked ahead of me up the lane.  I snapped a picture.  Right there near the tree was the spot the donkey collapsed, and my 80-year-old grandfather lifted it back up to its feet.  He was a crotchety old guy.  I once saw him pouring salt into a bloody wound on his hand after a slip of the axe. 


      "Let’s stop a minute", said Padraig.  "Let’s stop and shake hands right here and remember that we are on sacred ground, he said solemnly".  


      “Ah, you’re killing me, Padraig”, I said, though I shared his sense of reverence, and returned his Irish handshake with a California hug.  We were soul brothers now. 


      That’s Padraig walking up the lane, based on the reference photo I took, though relatives say he's younger and better looking than I depicted.  I agree.  


      My paintbrush restored the old thatched roof.    

      About "To Dance Beneath The Diamond Sky"

      Inspired by Mr. Tambourine Man by Bob Dylan


      Excerpt of Lyrics:


      And take me disappearing through the smoke rings of my mind

      Down the foggy ruins of time

      Far past the frozen leaves

      The haunted frightened trees

      Out to the windy beach

      Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow

      Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky

      With one hand waving free

      Silhouetted by the sea

      Circled by the circus sands

      With all memory and fate

      Driven deep beneath the waves

      Let me forget about today until tomorrow


      Hey, Mr. Tambourine man, play a song for me

      I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to

      Hey, Mr. Tambourine man, play a song for me

      In the jingle jangle morning I'll come following you.


                                                                                    ~ Bob Dylan


      About Redemption

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      About "Beach Break"

      Walking on the beach in Dana Point, CA, I saw this young boy splashing along the shore in his street clothes. I then saw the lady sitting back on the sand, watching him. I introduced myself, and she gave me permission to snap a couple of photos of her son for my next painting. My camera caught him in a moment of reverie, and it became the reference for this painting. Pure spontaneity — his shoes soaking wet.

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