CRANBERRY JOURNAL N.3

with JONNY ALEXANDER

I first met Jonny a few years ago. We were initially online friends who, I'm grateful to say, were brave enough to take the friendship beyond the chat.

Originally from San Diego, California, he now calls Mexico City home, though work, friends, and the occasional excuse regularly bring him back to Los Angeles. It's always a treat.

Most people I've encountered in life tend to shy away from long, thorough and deeply honest conversations. I'm not sure Jonny really has another mode. It took me years to become comfortable with the vulnerability those kinds of conversations require. Social conditioning and, perhaps a step further, patriarchal conditioning had taught me to constantly monitor moods, reactions, and differences, as though my safety depended on it. At many points in my life, it truly did.

Jonny has a rare gift in that way. He has a gentle ability to sense when you're holding something back and create the kind of space that makes honesty feel safe. Deeply intuitive, deeply feeling, and deeply connected, he meets people with a presence that quietly invites them to meet themselves.

I've watched him soar in the few short years I've known him. As an artist, he has found a way to weave his spiritual practice into his work without one ever feeling separate from the other, something I think every artist quietly hopes to discover. Having recently presented his newest body of work in a solo exhibition, A Memory of Light, at Colector Gallery in Monterrey, Mexico, it feels as though the world is only just beginning to open to him.

Our conversation wandered through painting, spirituality, ritual, creative practice, Mexico City, and the quiet rhythms that shape an artistic life.

- Alyssa


  • A DAY IN THE STUDIO 


    AM - What does an ideal day look like for you?


    JA - If I'm taking care of myself, I wake up, make hot water with lemon or lime, stretch, and meditate before the day really begins.

    From there it's breakfast, a little time outside, and then focused hours in the studio without my phone. I like taking a walk or riding my bike in the afternoon before returning to work in the evening, when everything feels a little quieter.

    I also think it's important to break routine. Discipline matters, but so do days where nothing is planned. Those are often the days when unexpected conversations, ideas, and moments of inspiration appear. Finding the balance between structure and spontaneity is an important part of my creative life.



    ON THE CREATIVE PROCESS 


    AM - Can you walk us through your creative process?


    JA -  Every painting begins with an experience. I live with it, reflect on it, and almost everything starts in a sketchbook through writing or small drawings.

    I think of my sketchbook as a garden. I'm constantly planting seeds, and over time some of those ideas germinate while others fall away. Months later, the ideas that have matured become paintings. It's an ongoing cycle of planting, waiting, and harvesting.

    The work I'm making now uses nature as a metaphor for our inner lives, so that garden analogy feels especially fitting.

  • ON MEDITATION AND SPIRITUALITY


    AM - Tell me about your spiritual practice. How did you find your way to it?


    JA - Meditation is the anchor of my practice. Beyond that, it's having close friendships where I can talk openly, and making work that reflects what I'm exploring internally.

    I've always been interested in questions about existence, reality, and our relationship to nature, but the path unfolded slowly. Ram Dass was a huge gateway for me. His work opened the door to meditation and deeper spiritual practices in a way I could really understand. My mom had also found meditation years earlier, so there was always a quiet spiritual thread around me.

    A Reiki session later became another turning point. It expanded my sense that there's much more to life than what we can immediately perceive. Since then it's been less about dramatic moments and more about consistently returning to practices that slowly change the way I relate to myself and the world.


    THE WORK 


    AM - Your work feels deeply connected to your spirituality now. Was that always the case?


    JA - Not really. Earlier in my career I was looking outward, making work about environmental issues, social questions, or ideas that existed outside of myself.

    Over time that shifted inward. The paintings became more personal and more connected to my own emotional life. Instead of pointing at the world, I became interested in exploring the internal landscapes we all share.

    Ironically, the more personal the work became, the more universal it started to feel.


  • A MEMORY OF LIGHT


    AM - You recently opened your solo exhibition, A Memory of Light, in Monterrey. How did that body of work come together?


    JA - That exhibition felt like the culmination of several years of exploration.

    I had been slowly stripping away objects, still lifes, and figures until the landscapes themselves became the subject. It felt like I'd uncovered something that had been there all along.

    Landscape has always interested me because it's full of metaphor. Reaching a place where I could express those ideas honestly felt like arriving somewhere I'd been moving toward for years. It's the most truthful work I've made so far, and I'm excited to continue exploring it.


    ON SOCIAL MEDIA AND SHARING


    AM - How do you feel about sharing your work online versus experiencing it in person?


    JA - Social media is complicated. It used to feel simpler, and now there's so much noise and pressure to create for the algorithm.

    I still enjoy sharing my work, but I try to do it in a way that feels honest rather than chasing trends. If social media can help people connect with the ideas behind the paintings, then it still has value.

    That said, nothing compares to standing in front of a painting in person. That's always how I'd prefer people experience the work.

CREATIVE DISCIPLINES 


AM - You're also a writer and musician. How do those practices inform one another?

JA - They're all different expressions of the same creative impulse.

Writing has become an essential part of my process. My sketchbooks are almost half writing now, and it helps me understand what's happening internally before it ever becomes an image.

Music is different. Playing guitar is lighter and more playful. There's less pressure, which makes it restorative.

Painting still carries the most weight, but writing is becoming just as important. Each practice feeds the others in different ways.


ON LAUGHTER 

AM - What's making you laugh right now?

JA - Life, honestly.

I spend a lot of time alone, so I've become pretty good at entertaining myself. My friends make me laugh constantly, and humor is one of the things I value most in relationships.

The older I get, the more I appreciate how strange and funny being human really is.


LOOKING AHEAD 

AM - What are you hoping to explore next?

JA - I want to stay with the work I'm making now instead of rushing toward something new.

Using nature as metaphor feels endless, and I want to keep following that path while also giving more attention to writing. I've started sharing more of it publicly, and that's become an exciting part of my practice.

Beyond that, I want to keep exploring both creatively and literally. New places always seem to open new ways of seeing.


Big thank you to Jonny for sharing his thoughts here, you can follow his writings on his Substack, and his work on Instagram and at www.jonnyalexander.com