Los Angeles isn't a city you just visit. It's a series of overlapping grids, moods, and micro-climates that can swallow you whole if you don't have a plan. Most people spend their Sundays idling in brunch lines on Sunset or getting stuck in the 405 parking lot. They're doing it wrong. To really see the soul of this place, you have to look at it through the eyes of the people who shaped its visual language.
Kenny Scharf is one of those people.
If you've seen a mural of a neon, psychedelic character with bulging eyes and a manic grin, you've seen Scharf’s work. He’s a pillar of the 1980s East Village art scene who eventually brought that high-energy, "Pop Surrealist" energy back to the West Coast. His Sundays aren't about being seen or networking at Soho House. They're about movement, color, and the specific kind of freedom that only comes from driving an art-covered car through the canyons.
The Morning Ritual of a Pop Surrealist
For Scharf, the day starts in a way that prioritizes the senses over the schedule. He’s not a fan of the rigid, three-hour sit-down breakfast. Instead, the focus is on getting the body moving and the eyes open. It usually starts at his home and studio, a space that feels more like a living gallery than a residence.
He’s often talked about the importance of being surrounded by inspiration before even stepping out the door. Imagine waking up and seeing "Kozmic" characters staring back at you from every corner. It sets a tone. It says that the day ahead is a canvas, not a chore list.
Most L.A. guides tell you to go to Runyon Canyon. Don't. It’s a crowded catwalk for influencers. Scharf’s approach is more about the hidden pockets of nature that still feel a bit wild. Think about the areas around Mt. Washington or the rugged edges of Eagle Rock. These spots offer a perspective of the city that isn't filtered through a glass skyscraper. You get the grit and the greenery simultaneously.
Driving as an Art Form
You can't talk about a Los Angeles Sunday without talking about the car. For most of us, driving is a soul-sucking necessity. For Kenny Scharf, it’s a performance.
He is famous for his "Karba" projects—turning ordinary vehicles into rolling sculptures using spray paint, found objects, and a lot of imagination. When he takes one of these out on a Sunday, he isn't just going from point A to point B. He's disrupting the gray monotony of the freeway.
There’s a lesson here for the rest of us. Even if your car isn't covered in plastic dinosaurs and neon swirls, the Sunday drive should be about the route, not the destination. Taking the long way through the winding roads of Beverly Glen or hitting the Pacific Coast Highway early—before the tourists arrive—changes your relationship with the geography. It’s about reclaiming the road.
Curating the Visual Appetite
By midday, the focus shifts to what Scharf calls "visual snacking." This isn't just about going to a museum. It's about finding inspiration in the "low-brow" and the "high-brow" all at once.
Los Angeles is the world capital of the thrift store and the swap meet. Places like the Rose Bowl Flea Market (if it’s the second Sunday of the month) or the smaller, weirder lots in Echo Park are where Scharf finds the raw materials for his assemblages. He looks for the discarded toys, the 1950s appliances, and the plastic junk that most people ignore.
Why the Junk Matters
Scharf’s work is deeply rooted in "Custom Culture" and the Flintstones-meets-Jetsons aesthetic. He sees the future in the trash of the past. When you spend a Sunday looking at "garbage" through that lens, the city becomes a treasure hunt.
- Look for shapes: Don't see a broken radio; see a robot head.
- Color over brand: Ignore the label and focus on the pigment.
- History: Think about the person who owned this object in 1964.
This isn't just shopping. It’s an exercise in empathy and imagination. It’s what keeps his work feeling fresh after decades in the game.
Finding the Best Fuel in the City
When Scharf does eat out, it’s rarely at the latest "it" spot. He tends to gravitate toward the authentic, the long-standing, and the slightly eccentric.
Think about the classic delis or the hole-in-the-wall taco spots that have survived three decades of gentrification. There’s a loyalty to the places that have stayed true to themselves, much like his own artistic style. The food needs to be good, sure, but the atmosphere needs to have character. A Sunday afternoon at a place like Canter’s Deli provides a heavy dose of mid-century vibes that fit perfectly into a Scharf-inspired itinerary.
The Sunday Studio Session
While most people use Sunday evening to dread Monday morning, artists like Scharf use it as a peak creative window. The city quiets down. The phone stops ringing. This is when the real work happens in his studio.
His studio is a chaotic, organized explosion of color. It’s located in a part of town where he can make noise and a mess. Watching him work is like watching a choreographed dance with a spray can. He doesn't sketch much. He just goes.
If you want to have a "Scharf Sunday," you need to carve out an hour for your own creative outlet. It doesn't matter if you're a professional artist or someone who hasn't picked up a crayon since third grade. The goal is to produce something—anything—that didn't exist when you woke up.
The Sunset Finale
The day doesn't end with a movie or a quiet night in. It ends with the light.
The "Golden Hour" in Los Angeles is legendary for a reason. The way the smog catches the light and turns the sky into a bruised purple and orange gradient is straight out of a Scharf painting. Getting to a high vantage point—maybe the Griffith Observatory or a quiet pull-off on Mulholland Drive—is the only way to close the loop.
You stand there, looking out over the flickering lights of the basin, and you realize that the city is just one giant, glowing organism. It’s messy, it’s loud, and it’s occasionally beautiful.
How to Build Your Own Version
You don't need a famous name or a spray-painted Cadillac to pull this off. You just need to stop following the crowds.
- Pick a neighborhood you’ve never walked in. Park the car and just move. Look at the typography on the old signs. Look at the murals.
- Visit a gallery that intimidates you. Walk in like you own the place. Spend ten minutes staring at one painting instead of ten seconds staring at twenty.
- Buy something weird. Go to a junk shop and find an object that makes you laugh. Put it on your desk.
- Drive with the windows down. Turn off the podcast. Listen to the city.
The "best" Sunday in L.A. isn't something you find in a list of top-rated restaurants. It’s something you manufacture through curiosity and a refusal to be bored. Kenny Scharf has been doing it for years, and the city still hasn't run out of things to show him. It won't run out for you either if you start looking at the cracks in the sidewalk instead of the screen in your hand.
Go out and find something bright today. The gray will be there on Monday regardless.
