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Description
24"x30" Oil on canvas

Once while stuck for several hours in Los Angeles traffic, it occurred to me how self segregated large cities are. Divided by race, culture, economic class, and what have you, once people migrate to another country, they tend to find zones of comfortable familiarity.

But there in the car, an ambulance, lights flashing but siren silent in its futility, person dying in back. And all around me, stuck the same as I, blaring was the music of many cultural tunes. And yet, no one seamed in any way annoyed, hardened by the daily routine.

It struck me then that this was the place where tolerance begins. Where the merging and melting of cultures, are then disseminated to the rest of the land.
The highways and interstates truly are the life's blood of American culture.

Description
24"x30" Oil on canvas

Once while stuck for several hours in Los Angeles traffic, it occurred to me how self segregated large cities are. Divided by race, culture, economic class, and what have you, once people migrate to another country, they tend to find zones of comfortable familiarity.

But there in the car, an ambulance, lights flashing but siren silent in its futility, person dying in back. And all around me, stuck the same as I, blaring was the music of many cultural tunes. And yet, no one seamed in any way annoyed, hardened by the daily routine.

It struck me then that this was the place where tolerance begins. Where the merging and melting of cultures, are then disseminated to the rest of the land.
The highways and interstates truly are the life's blood of American culture.