bulbul

Some guy on a black motorcycle is on the loose in our town shooting people (ok, just one person. In the leg. But still) and the police haven't come by yet to interrogate the big black motorcycle sitting in our driveway. Or the big black motorcycle in the neighbor's driveway. Or... ok, it looks like the guy across the street has one in his driveway, too. It seems that everyone in Wahiawa has a motorcycle, actually. Sorry about that, detectives. Good luck.

Demotivational painting 

Have been feeling uninspired, painting sloppily and then wiping everything off with a rag. Got mad at a seed pod and a shriveled nut, threw them out the back door, and painted one of the rescue birds, instead.

Fidget the Red-Vented Bulbul

This is not a happy picture. This particular bulbul escaped the aviary, panicked, and drowned in the toilet. It was a bad way to go. My mother, the local Bird Witch who rehabilitates these guys, was very upset about the death, and so she opened up the flight cage and released her other young rehabbed birds - then worried that she had made a mistake and doomed them to die in the wild. She did not doom them. They have been returning every day for dinner, chasing her from her car to her front door when she gets home from work. It's good for her, and it's funny for me. We're still really sorry about Fidget, though. 

Currently in rehab: Spike the Red-Whiskered Bulbul, who has undersized wings and flies like a chicken. He smiles, which is weird for a bird. 

I need to take a break from plants and birds and paint some faces and bodies again. People with faces or bodies are encouraged to come sit for me. I have a kegerator and cookies. There's a cupcake in it for anyone with tattoos.