A Living Room Church

A Living Room Church

A personal memory about beginnings, community, and what history sometimes forgets.

Whimsical ink and watercolor drawing with a cross, house-like forms, curling vines, small figures, and a soft blue-violet wash suggesting shelter, spirit, and community.
**Dr. Seuss’s Heaven** — A tribute to Dr. Seuss, mixed media on paper, 2005 (approx. 6 × 9 in.) — A small drawing about the rhythm of life

 

There are stories that get polished over time, and stories that quietly disappear.

I’ve carried one of those quieter stories for years.

Long before MCC became what it is in Minnesota, there was a small gathering of us — a core group of gay men and friends trying to build spiritual community when such spaces were rare.

The original services were held in our living room on the 3400 block of Pillsbury Avenue South in Minneapolis.

Word spread by mouth. People came. We worshiped weekly. There were picnics, gatherings, friendship, and a real sense that something important was being born. The worship had a Catholic tone. It was heartfelt, searching, and deeply communal.

There were many involved — names I remember, and names I’ve lost — but I remember the spirit clearly.

Then life moved on. Michael and I joined the Air Force, and I was stationed in California. MCC continued to grow. It moved beyond our living room, then into other spaces, eventually finding a home at the Minneapolis Friends Meeting House.

That was also how I first encountered Quakerism — another thread that would shape my life.

I’ll admit: over the years I sometimes felt forgotten, as though those early beginnings had faded from memory. But memory is a tricky thing. Institutions grow, stories simplify, and humble beginnings can disappear into history.

What remains for me is gratitude that I got to witness — and in some small way help hold — the beginning of something that mattered.

And I was deeply happy to see it grow.

Minneapolis Walkways Need to be Safe

Minneapolis Sidewalk Accessibility Matters

Hi, I am sharing this article I wrote about the condition of our Minneapolis walkways. I hope this helps spark conversations that continue and lead to real solutions for this citywide problem.

https://www.startribune.com/municipal-sidewalk-shoveling-debate-mpls-accessibility/601548203

I am grateful that the Star Tribune published my commentary. As I grow older, this is becoming a greater concern. After 15 years in NYC, I am a walker. You see so much and learn a lot.

If you can’t access the article, you can find the text in my Google Docs: Winter Walkways — And Pedestrian’s Access.

Walking Reflection — November 4

A digital collage blending red, gold, and pink autumn leaves with soft branches and floral forms. The composition feels like a playful romp with color, echoing the joy and energy of fall.
Autumn Layers — digital collage inspired by the color and rhythm of autumn.

Autumn Colors

This fall, on my walks, I’ve been amazed by the color — soaking it in, just appreciating the ability to gaze upon such beauty.

As beautiful as the colors of spring and summer are — spring with its bright yellow-greens and lupines in pinks and violets, and summer with its deeper greens and the bright yellows of marigolds or the reds of geraniums and pinks of coneflowers — not to mention the purples and blues of delphiniums — I love them too.

But autumn colors speak to me differently. There’s an excitement, a passion in them that touches my soul.

I often collect leaves and set them in my studio to inspire me — to try and equal the wonderful harmony of fall colors. This year, I decided to play as the Creator once did, and create an image — a playful collage of color, built from photographs taken along the way.

Bill Hendricks


Started with a Walk and a Photograph

Related: Minnesota DNR Fall Color Finder — a live map of color across the state and information about the 2025 season.

Cogs / The Living Machine — Process & Reflections

The 80/20 Principle

A vibrant abstract illustration depicting interconnected pipes, gears, and curved forms in vivid hues of orange, teal, and gold. The composition suggests a mechanical system that feels alive — forms overlap and flow with depth and rhythm, evoking the idea of consciousness and structure emerging from chaos.
Cogs / The Living Machine

While refining the work, I recalled a lesson I often shared with my students: the 80/20 principle. You can always keep working and perfecting, but there’s a point where the essence is present — where the piece is alive and coherent. This artwork marks that balance: form and meaning are clear without endless revision.

transformation and renewal — how structure and energy evolve through process.

Art isn’t complete until it’s shared—Wondering what you think?

Stern Expression, as the gazer peers through various dimensions.
Stern Expression — Ink on paper — 7″ x 5″ approximately

Art isn’t complete until it’s shared.
                          ~  Seph Lawless 

As some who follow ArtChangesLives(Dot)Com know, I retired almost three years ago. I knew I would begin building a body of work. So, I began drawing before retirement. At the Friends General Conference (FGC) workshop titled Photography as a Contemplative Practice, Peter West Nutting jumpstarted my process. That workshop was followed by a Zentangling Workshop with Sadelle Wiltshire the next summer at the FGC Gathering. Both workshops provided a sufficient role in giving direction to my work.

After retirement, besides exploring my artistic leadings, I supported my meeting, the Minneapolis Monthly Meeting and Northern Yearly Meeting (NYM) (Quakers), designing and producing the yearly meeting’s monthly e-news and a quarterly publication, NYM Journal, with two skilled editors Doug Kirk and Tom Darrow. The journal features poets, articles, and artwork produced and shared with members of the yearly meeting.

I am excited to share some of my work in the journal’s current issue. I hope you enjoy it; along the way, you might enjoy several articles and poems.

Northern Yearly Meeting Journal/Winter 2024