Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers – May10, 2026
This Mother’s Day, I decided to write about one of the murals that deeply inspired me when I first came to Palo Alto: Greg Brown’s “Pedestrian Series.”
There are cities with famous museums, and then there are cities where art quietly lives among the people. In Palo Alto, one of the most beloved examples is the whimsical and unforgettable “Pedestrian Series” murals created by local artist Greg Brown.
At first glance, you may miss them entirely.
A milkman opening a door at the top of a staircase, little green: “Venusian” aliens climbing the stairs. ( close to Lytton and High ). It was painted in 1976 and is one of Palo Alto’s best known trompe-l’oeil(“trick the eye”) murals.
A garbage collector casually hauls away an alien hidden in a trash can. ( corner of High and Hamilton)
An alien crashes a UFO into the side of a bank building.
Then suddenly — you stop.
You smile.
You look again.
That moment of surprise is exactly what Greg Brown wanted.
Not Just Art — An Experience
Brown called the collection the “Pedestrian Series” because the murals were designed for people walking around downtown, discovering them unexpectedly while running errands, shopping, meeting friends, or grabbing coffee. He once described the project as being “geared toward people being on foot.”
That idea is important.
When I first came to Palo Alto, I was deeply attracted by the energy, creativity, and stories hidden in every corner of the city. It was not just about the beautiful streets or famous companies — it was the feeling that people here dared to dream, build, and express themselves.
Over the years, I began to notice the murals, public art, and meaningful paintings on walls throughout downtown. They were more than decoration. Each mural reflected identity, history, culture, emotions, and hope. Some celebrated community. Some challenged people to think differently. Some simply made people smile during a difficult day.
As an immigrant arriving in Silicon Valley many years ago, I was inspired by how art could quietly connect strangers without saying a word. Back then, I never imagined that one day I would own a commercial building myself. Yet somewhere deep inside, I carried a dream: if I ever owned a building, I wanted the walls to mean something too. Not just paint. Not just advertising. But something with purpose, memory, and inspiration.
Today, I find myself thinking more seriously about that dream. What kind of mural would represent my journey? Perhaps something about courage, perseverance, family, education, or giving back to the community. Maybe something that reminds people that success is not only measured by money, but also by the lives we touch and the dreams we help others achieve.
I also want to take more photographs around Palo Alto — not just of buildings, but of moments, colors, reflections, and small details that once inspired me when I first arrived. Sometimes we move too quickly in life and forget what originally moved our hearts. Looking back helps me appreciate how far the journey has come.
Perhaps one day, someone walking by my building will pause for a moment in front of a mural and feel inspired the same way I once was when I first discovered Palo Alto. And maybe that is the true beauty of public art — it allows one person’s story to quietly encourage another person’s dream.