I grabbed a photo of this tree showing off all its swaglicious flowers in the afternoon,
it's petals were all raining down like bone-tipped arrows set on fire. Almost every tree
to me is blooming in the city at the moment and it's really affecting my spirits in
a positive way making me happier. Not to say i didn't enjoy winter I really did
except for the two weeks when I was bed-ridden with a nightmare fever.
There's really nothing like sitting, waiting around eating a chocolate covered
energy bar and slowly seeing a beautiful tree snake into the corner of your
eye with dancing colours dripping from it's branches. Sadly I forgot to
read what type of tree and flowers I was staring at, i tried to smell the flowers
but there was no kick to them. I've also recently discovered a real fondness
for knowing Latin the proper botanical names for the plants i stumble across
especially the particular sub-species of a flower that catches my fancy.
Thankfully at Auckland university all the trees and plants tend to have their
ancient names encrusted upon a little bronze or steel plaque at the base of each
trunk or painfully nailed onto it's worn body. The tree from the photo I caught was
outside Elam the premier fine arts school in NZ, probably?
I usually hang out there outside after studying my books and eat something
to stabilise my sugar levels.
Sometimes I also study the people who come and go from
the art school with their easels and paints well more like macbook pro's
and new installed photoshop 10,0 now i guess. Sometimes I find myself
subconsciously analysing what they wear as my snack bar brings
my body and brain back to full functionality. I even imagine that I can
match their clothing style with the art they make behind closed doors!
often laughing to myself about what i guess is the art medium
for whom. And Contrary to what you might think of the next wave
of New Zealand artists on the big come up some of them dress
pretty low-key almost jock like which is a bit stale haha.
Of course you still do get the odd eccentric dressed up who could
the late David Bowie to shame. I like the manic free spirits the
best who turn their wardrobe and body into a moving talking
work of art thanks to throwaways of the last decades fashionistas.
Some of the art they come up with inside the dungeon of Elam
looks pretty sweet, bad and even great. I walked past late last
week and a girl was painting a vast canvas on easel while sitting
on a stool with her headphones blaring, she looked to be having
a blast although there was no real sign of paint on the canvas yet.
Which reminds me I once had a pretty acquaintance I knew
who was studying at Elam but seemed rather sad about the
prospects of not making much money from her chosen occupation.
I thought to myself 'I don't think real artists think that way about art'
not to say that some aren't driven by commerce the musician Handel
was a great composer and business man rinsing the aristocracy of
money, but for the most part they really don't care. Which reminds of
a great quote from the contemporary recording artist Kevin Parker of
psych-rock Tame Impala who dropped this gem recently;
"if you make great art, the wealth will come" my emphasis added.