by James H. Pence

In chalk art, the medium and the message are bound together. Thus, you the chalk artist must decide how you plan to communicate the message through your art. Although it is possible to draw in silence, not talking and with no backup music, it’s not a very effective way to communicate. So, virtually all chalk artists choose to engage their audiences one way or another while they are drawing...

by James H. Pence

The use of chalk to communicate a message goes all the way back to the late 1800s. Back in those days, people called it “chalk talk.” That was because most chalk drawings were done either on blackboards with white chalk or white paper with black chalk. Most of the time, the artists didn’t draw what we would consider “artistic” pictures (e.g. landscapes, seascapes, still life); rather, they would do line art—more like a cartoon.

And as the artists drew, they would talk...

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.