90 paintings in 90 days, Day 7, Lilikoi

               Lilikoi

     This morning 160, 6-man canoes left Molokai with crews from all over the world. My friend Julie picked me up at dawn to see the race start. On the way back she asked if I wanted a few bags of lilikoi that she picks up in her yard. So that's what made the car smell so good. Thanks Julie, that stuff is like gold. Tomorrow I'll walk up the street and ask Auntie Ada how to make lilikoi butter. It only took four hours to paint them and two hours to cut them open and extract the juice from the gooey stuff inside. I have no idea how much I need, although I saved the seeds. There's enough to grow about 50,000 more.



The week in review:
      Each day I find something to appreciate that will also be challenging to paint. After the basics are organized I take a minute to clear my mind and ask for help. My first thought usually lacks confidence so I set it aside, then I get this inkling that maybe there is a universal source of inspiration or a brilliant muse ready to come out of hiding and I get a mental picture of cheesecake, or a smoldering cigarette or something else that I really want that has nothing to do with painting. So I give up thinking and just start. I keep going back to what every successful person who has pursued any creative venture says, you just have to keep doing it.
     There have been a few times when the brush did something unexpected. A few times I completely lost track of time and hours passed that seemed like minutes, although the first half hour really feels like a marathon. All those worthless thoughts that slow things down were not as frequent toward the end of the week and that is progress. I don't get why egos get in the way. You'd think egos everywhere would leap around with day-glow pom poms shrieking raucous cheers to support damned near anything that would make them feel better. I'm giving mine a whistle and a marching band, just for not giving up.