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Preachers and Protestors in Leimert Park

Preachers Park

Leimert Park in Los Angeles is a hub for street preachers, protestors and an assortment of individuals or groups with a message to disseminate through bull horns, signs and banners or simple ‘hollar at the top of your lungs’ delivery methods. At various times, you’ll find Rastafari, Muslim, Christian, anti-government marchers and often live music. There are restaurants, clothing stores specializing in African attire, a cultural center, a bookstore and other shops that represent the milieu, making this a very lively place to paint. It was my turn this day to proclaim my message about Jesus. Continue reading

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Seeking the Lost On the Trail to Mt. Lowe

Lake Avenue travels from South Pasadena northward to Altadena and comes to an end when it meets Loma Alta Street and the foothills. Behind these gates, which anyone can walk around, are mountain trails. Legend has it that the Marx Bro. (Groucho, Harpo, Chico and Zeppo) once owned a home here. All that remains now is a stone foundation. I’ve walked the trails many times up to Mt. Lowe, which looks out over the San Gabriel Valley and beyond to Los Angeles.

This day, I didn’t come here to hike but to paint and seek the lost. A parade of hikers walked past me as they came and went on their journeys. Finally, three young men who were headed toward the trails stopped to see what I was doing.

They seemed to enjoy watching me paint, but I was very interested to learn about them. One was an aspiring inventor, another a cartoonist and the third an entrepreneur. After listening to their dreams, I told them that they could achieve their goals with God’s help. I told them about His plan for salvation. They were receptive to the message, but not yet ready to make a commitment to Jesus.

I bid them a kind farewell as they continued on their way into the mountains.

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Apple Picking Society

Apple Picking Society

The following is one of my favorite contemporary parables (author unknown).

Once upon a time there was an apple grower who had acres and acres of apple trees. In all, he had 10,000 acres of apple orchards.

One day he went to the nearby town. There, he hired 1,000 apple pickers. He told them:

“Go to my orchards. Harvest the ripe apples, and build storage buildings for them so that they will not spoil. I need to be gone for a while, but I will provide all you will need to complete the task. When I return, I will reward you for your work.” Continue reading

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Engine Company Number One


LA's First Firehouse

My inaugural ride on the Gold Line tram in 2003 took me back in my mind to train trips from my childhood home in Kansas to the motor city, Detroit to visit a relative. This Zephyr whispered out of Pasadena and chugged silently over a trestle then serpentined through the tree-lined Arroyo, past rolling hills and skirted by a trickle of water slithering around small boulders lying in a concrete bed.

I gazed out the window at the blurry intermittent clatter of redwood fences defending homes from voyeuristic passengers and rubbernecking conductors. The train dove into an abridged John Henry tunnel, then emerged as swiftly as it entered. After it made its final stops in Chinatown, it came to a gradual halt at Union Station. I flung my paint kit over my shoulder and made the short walk to Olvera Street. Continue reading

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Birthday Gift from God

Birthday Gift From God

Today’s my birthday. I’ve had enough of them by now that there’s not too much I really want other than to hear from my family. This year was a little different. I wanted something special from God. I wanted to meet someone whom I could talk to about Jesus.

Yesterday I noticed that a resturant was undergoing some major renovation, so I figured that would make a great scene. So this morning, I tossed my paint kit in the car and hit the road. The overcast burned off at about 10:00, so I was at the location by 10:15. Continue reading

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Big Teen Dreams

Teens Dream

I often come back to this corner when I haven’t been painting on the streets recently. Not that I literally come here to paint the same scene again, but I come here in my imagination to remember the place where God got very involved with my artwork.

The year was 2001. I had been laid off from my job and had to get out of the house for a while. I threw some art supplies in a backpack, hopped on my bicycle and rode to this street corner. I pitched my easel and began to make a pen & ink sketch on watercolor paper. I was rather enjoying myself so I pulled out the watercolors and began to paint. Continue reading

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