(Pic #1) Young artist contemplates the next level of color. Laser focus. The Next Gen Helen Frankenthaler?

For the last 30 years, we’ve sponsored art workshops for children in the often forgotten heart of the inner-city, South Central Los Angeles. Since 1988, we’ve offered holiday painting sessions with no rules. The community turns out very time, and an unbridled sense of self-expression — though paint, glitter, beads and pipe cleaners — takes over the neighborhood park. Toddlers, teens, grandmas and Moms sit with one another for hours — making art.  I’ve written about this experience many times. And each year I think — have I hit the wall? Will these workshops become more of a hassle than a beacon of light?

NEVER.

(Pic #2) World famous abstract painter Helen Frankenthaler in her New York studio, 1969. Photograph by Ernst Haas / Getty Images

Every year, we witness fearlessness, freedom of artistic expression, and for a few hours, the absence of anyone telling the kids they have to “do it this way.” They splatter paint; they collage. They toss glitter all over the room, and in the end, they’ve spent the day like an artist: exploring, pushing the envelope, and having a blast. There’s no angst, no second thoughts, no insecurity. I guess you could call it a brand of reckless abandon that starts with no real plans to speak of, a table full of colorful clutter, and ends with remarkable original work. And they don’t even know it. Nor do they care.

More often than not, I see kids using materials in ways I had never thought of — and I’ve been making art since I was four. My artist friend, Julia Strickler volunteers every year. Today she told me she’s “in constant awe” observing how open the children are — that even when they’re shy, “art creates a connection.” And you can’t help but notice they just ooze pure joy. Julia says when they make something that is uniquely theirs — “every detail is beautiful — the colors, the sparkles, and even the drips.”

Picasso once said, “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.” I’m hopeful these extraordinary talents figure that out.

BTW, I didn’t see one child playing games on his Mom’s iPhone, nor did we hear any whining. Check out our photos and maybe you’ll see why.

Thank you, Benita Dixon and staff at the Van Ness Recreation Center for welcoming our Hope’s Nest volunteers into your most spirited, creative commmunity.