There is little that can be said about the Smiling Tree. You could get indignant as I have in the past about how wrong it is to mix the unnatural components of spray paint with the natural elements of a living plant but the limb shorning of this tree left behind circular remnants outlining what had to be excellent potential for face portrayal. How could anyone resist the opportunity to give this tree some personality? These faces became fully realized by the addition of eyes and mouths in lines of spray paint.
In the past, I have been driven to the brink of a Euell Gibbon’s kind of colossal, aneuryistic freak out by people’s decisions to tag trees or vandalize them in other ways. Not that old Euell, known to me for his “Did you ever eat a pine tree?” quote in a Grape Nuts commercial from the 70’s, was know for his freak outs about anything but he did seem especially passionate about nature. For me to consider that kind of melt down. . . well, I must love trees too much.
Then there’s another nature lover to consider by the name of Joyce Kilmer who wrote in his greatest poem (pause here while I look it up). Oh yeah. He waxed poetic about seeing a tree as lovely as a poem before going off to war and leaving his five kids in the lurch. There is beauty in lovely trees but it’s all for naught when someone throws paint on them, unless they do it in a kind, subtle and fun way.
How can you not return a smile to the smiling tree? You’ll find it facing North Delaware Avenue beyond Kenton Park. I can live with the paint on that tree. A smiling tree seems like a friendlier tree. It’s welcoming and happy. So I look at the addition of these markings as a detail that brings an otherwise regular tree a dash of character.
Having contemplated tree vandalism lately, I thought I’d drum up two examples. I’m on the fence, I’d say. After singing the praises of the Smiling Tree, I saw a tree with certain anomalies that might benefit from vandalism. I wish the 11th Commandment, preserved in stone for all humanity to obey for all time, read, “LEAVE TREES ALONE.” Then again, with that 11th commandment, this blog post might not exist.
A tree in my neighborhood has a hole in it that seems to be filled with cement or maybe it’s a heart shaped bad spot that had been crying out for paint. I’m no arborist, that’s for sure. Initially I thought someone had taken the opportunity to immortalize their love for someone else. I could have sworn there had been a plus sign between the B and the D. Without having done the research (walking down the street), I was speculating the profession of love from B to D was also a side-armed tribute to Kilmer and his love of trees. Catching myself, I remembered no one gives two bleeps about Joyce and his tree poem these days. I had to spend a few years working at a middle school named for him to become interested enough to delve into his legacy. The tree was a place to broadcast affection or really, in this case, a place to immortalize a pair of initials. Kilmer told the world about his love of trees through poetry, and B told us about B and D or D told us of B or BD told of him or herself. Like poetry, it is open to interpretation. So let me get wishy-washy and not stand firm here (or there) by saying most tree vandalism is mostly wrong. Also, it may be better to write poems about trees than to write on, carve, or spray paint them.
Does a Bear Get Nailed to a Tree?
What do you do if you have the perfect piece of decorative bear art and no place to put it? There is no reason not to nail it to a tree. The bear is rugged and vibrant despite the nail in her underarm. I’m going to go out on a limb (there has to be a goddamned tree pun) and say that if people feel the need to decorate trees, I can’t see a nail hurting too much. Also, if someone considers decorating a tree, hanging an item featuring nature really does work as exterior decorating.