The latest on my Morning Glory Project: This weekend I painted my car a fresh-snow white. Its old color was that of urban snow, pocked with black in every square inch of the roof and hood where tree sap had dropped and then gotten dingy.
So, I put on a new clean coat, forming the background for next weekend's application of glorious morning glories. (If you're new to this blog, please note my practice run on the file cabinet.Afterwards, on Monday, I kept telling people: I painted my car this weekend. Sanded, washed, dried, taped up, and sprayed, then sprayed again.People kept saying variations of the same idea: you can do that? Or: I didn't know that was something people did.The "you" referred to wasn't me; it meant "one." One can do that? The question reminded me: one can do a whole lot of things that might seem impossible. This floral-car project seems perfectly reasonable to me. Writing a novel quickly doesn't. Maybe I could rethink that.
(Part 3 of my writing crisis on the QE2 will appear on Friday.)
