Artistic Progress and Jungle Hacking

aloha progress photo

Amidst the daily life of keeping the jungle from taking over parts of the Retreat Sanctuary I serve at, there has been  some time to move ahead on the Aloha Theater project. The sign received  support wires  and an electrical conduit. Unless you work for the union, this might not seem like much. But the important thing is that it happened and momentum has successfully shifted from getting ready to get ready, to get ready to being ready, to actually doing something.   All the cheesy Christmas decorations that hang from the rusting framework of the old marquis are to be tackled next, but this requires more attention to detail than has been  available in the chemistry of this body-mind complex recently.

So it has been easier to hack jungle.  Living in Hawaii, things grow, and grow,  and oh so quickly grow some more.  If you turn you back you can be swiftly engulfed by some human hunting vine on steroids,  just like a scene from a  totally forgettable  cable movie. The kind that lives in the upper numbers  next to Pawn Shop Heroes.

–“Where’s Bruce?   Haven’t seen him all day.

–Dunno, he was here a while ago. He was moving pretty slow,  though.

–Say, do we have a new topiary statue overlooking the river?


— Ah…found Bruce…… thanks.

It was horrible, worse than being attacked on Twitter by vicious  followers of your not so secret self published life details.   I survived though,  thanks to the keen eye of my friends.  Stay tuned next week for how to repair your lawn tractor for the umpteenth time. And remember, don’t hit the bufos with the weed whacker.

While I was waiting to be rescued  from the green terror, my life flashed before my eyes and I was grateful to have also put some time into embellishing the  Canefield  Church painting that I thought was done till I showed it to a good friend who has a thirty thousand dollar MFA education and is really pissed because  he currently is  painting bathroom ceilings in Reno for food money.  It was a forceful critique, shall we say.  But it hurt good and I put his blunt force critique  to good use.  Made for a better painting. Friends now when to tell friends they’ve been emotionally absent during painting.   Didn’t cost me thirty grand either.

Thanks for taking some LIP from me,



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