Mural in Zen time is a three-walled Florida courtyard where I had some slapstick moments—a full can of lavender paint did the hula on my head, covering my hair and just about everywhere else while I was dive-bombed by persistently angry bees, one of which stung me before I whacked it and hastened its next incarnation. This is, after all, a tranquil meditation space.The trained circus poodle on the property only spoke Russian and, like much of the population in retiree paradise, had lousy short term memory. Each time he saw me it was a new adventure of feints and barks.
100 degrees-- a dreamy bamboo forest emerged from my brush and overheated mind, blue streams and mysterious marshes surrounding a zen garden. This is Florida, where a concerned stranger who loved my artwork told me I'm going to burn in hell for eternity. Now I know why Bush won here, why 18,000 votes disappeared and very few really seemed to care. Brain fry.