by James H. Pence

Christmas is less than a week away, so I thought it might be fun to put up a couple of Christmas chalk / black-light video tips...

by James H. Pence

I’ve always known that chalk art is a powerful means of communication, but until this past Sunday night, I never realized just how powerful it actually is.

I did a chalk drawing in prison Sunday night and the instant my wife and I arrived at the classroom that functions as a chapel, I sensed that something was up. Normally when we enter a prison, we’re accompanied by a correctional officer from the time we get inside the gate until the time we leave. This time there were four officers, two of whom were exceptionally large...

By James H. Pence

Probably the most frequently asked question about chalk art is, "Do I need to have artistic ability to be a chalk artist."

And my answer to the question is frustratingly ambiguous...

by Jim Pence

Tuesday's post showed you the technique needed to draw distant trees in chalk, but it was all done in white chalk. Today we'll do the trees in color.

by Jim Pence

Mountains are majestic, beautiful, and fun to draw. And, with a little practice, they're pretty easy to draw, too. On Tuesday's blog, I explained the steps for drawing a mountain in chalk. However, it's not always easy to work from photographs alone. So, in today's post, I've included a video tip that will show you how I draw mountains when I'm working with chalk.

I hope you enjoy it...

CHALKING BEHIND BARS, PART TWO

When the chaplain and I crossed the grounds of the prison yesterday, we were greeted by big smiles.

"It's the chalk artist," said the lieutenant. He nudged the sergeant, who was standing beside him. “You have to see one of his drawings. They’re amazing.”

This is the fifth time I've been at this particular prison over the last several years. Because of that, a lot of the staff members look forward to my chalk drawings as much as the inmates do. The first day that I was there, one staff member came in especially to see my drawing. She didn't even have to work that day, but she'd heard about the chalk art and wanted to make sure she saw one of the drawings.

One year even the warden himself came to see me draw. And as busy as the warden was, it was a great compliment for him to take the time to come by the chapel.

One of the things I love about doing chalk drawings for people is that it cuts across every line. I have drawn for preschoolers and senior citizens, Christians and unbelievers, inmates and prison staff. The venues and age groups don’t matter.  There is a universal fascination with watching someone draw a picture.

Most of us have seen the PBS programs by Bob Ross or Bill Alexander and been fascinated watching them do oil paintings in 30 minutes. And if you've gone somewhere like Jackson Square in New Orleans and seen artists painting on the street, you've probably stopped to watch them for a little while. And of course in amusement parks most of us like to stop for a few minutes and watch the caricature artists at work. Maybe we even have one done of ourselves.

Why are we fascinated by watching someone else draw a picture? I have no idea. I tend to think it's seeing creativity in action. Perhaps witnessing an act of creation awakens in us a little reminder that we are made in the image of God.

I don't know why it works or why it's effective, but I know that whenever I go to a prison or to a church or to a camp or to a vacation Bible school, I have a great responsibility. As I draw, I have the opportunity to evoke in my audience a sense of wonder, a sense of awe, and maybe even a sense of transcendence. Through my creation I have the privilege of pointing them to the creator of the world and, in effect, saying, "Isn't God great?"

Maybe that’s why after thirty-three years and well over a thousand drawings, I have never grown tired of it. I’ll be back in prison again tonight. Hopefully we’ll have a full house of inmates.

And maybe a few staff members.

Next week, I'll be in prison for four days.

No, I'm not on a work-release program. I go into prisons because I choose to.

Back in the mid nineties, I was invited to do a chalk-art presentation at the Wynne Unit in Huntsville, Texas. To be honest, I wasn't too keen on the idea. But early-on in my chalk art ministry I promised God that as long as he kept me in chalk and paper, I'd draw wherever he opened a door.

But I never imagined that he would open a door into a prison.

I'm so squeaky clean that after nearly 40 years of driving I've only had one ticket. I had no idea of what to expect behind the walls of a medium security prison unit, and quite frankly the prospect of being in one room with a couple of hundred convicts scared me to death. But I had made that promise to God.

And so I went.

And my life was changed forever.

When I went in, I expected to find a couple of hundred angry men just daring me to bless them. What I found were men who were hurting, who were hungry, and who simply wanted someone to care about them.

Two things changed my perspective on prison ministry. First, I didn't see "prisoners" or "inmates". I saw men. People just like me. And I realized, perhaps for the first time, "There but for the grace of God, go I." Those men were in prison because of bad choices they had made and bad things that they had done. I could just as easily have made some of those choices, and it's only by God's mercy that I didn't.

Second, I saw that God's grace was sufficient to change the minds and hearts of even hardened criminals.When those men sang during the worship time, I saw a deep hunger and passion reflected on their faces that I rarely see in churches.

Don't get me wrong. Many of those men (and women) have deep, serious issues to deal with before God.

But they know that God loves them and that he is a God of grace, mercy, and forgiveness. And they love him.

And so next week (May 15-18), I will be drawing and singing at the Glen Goodman Unit in Jasper, Texas, sharing God's love and mercy through Jesus Christ.

I'd appreciate your prayers, that God may show his grace through me.

-- James H. (Jim) Pence