Blue trees are death

My company painted some trees out in our courtyard with blue paint. Apparently, this refers to an “art” project that Konstantin Dimopoulos started as a call to action about environmentalism. I don’t like it. 

The problem with blue trees is it’s glorifying the unnatural. When we call attention to the unnatural and dare to call it beautiful, we glorify what’s not natural. By doing so, we diminish the beauty that is everywhere. By doing that, we become less practiced, less capable, and less wanting to find beauty in the natural, the ordinary. You end up with fake tits, heavy makeup, and blue trees. 

I don’t like it as a form of protest either. I get it – “It’s not natural, but neither is the damage we’re doing to the environment with our pollution.” 

A far better form of protest would be if Dimopoulos and my company planted a huge flower garden and made a plaque saying these flowers won’t be able to flourish here or in other parts of the world if we continue letting cows fart, or whatever. Make it beautiful and inspire us to action. Not sickly and weird and make us think of what’s not naturally beautiful. Just just advertising 101. 

This isn’t creating. This isn’t art. It’s debasing what’s perfect. Art is about creating something beautiful. This is just warping something beautiful into something that’s less so. We want things to be what they aren’t, instead of finding beauty in what is. It’s strange to me: as lazy as humans are, it takes far more work to make the unnatural beautiful than it does to appreciate the beauty in what’s natural. Of course, I’m speaking about physical ease, not mental. I guess it’s hard to accept things as they are. I sometimes forget how brilliant I am. 

Just kidding, I don’t forget. Because I’m brilliant. 

It’s important to find beauty in truth – in what’s real. When we find beauty in truth, in the natural world, we can appreciate everything in life. We don’t need to change the external world to fit how we think it should present itself. We can only be happy when we enjoy what’s true. 

Humans destroy many things that are natural and good. We destroy currency by printing more of it and destroy the value of hard work (shameful Bitcoin plug). We destroy the beauty and paradoxes involved in sex when we print and mass distribute porn. Blue trees?

My point in all this, really, is don’t get a tattoo. 

And now, a poem.

The trees full of beauty and full of life
Were painted grotesque blue to symbolize
That life can be reduced by human strife
Made to suffer right before our own eyes

In destroying worldly natural sight
The object is made a tree no longer
Provider of housing and shade from light
But turned into a monstrous disorder

We call attention to the destruction
Through this destructive painted shade of blue
The trees were fine before our obstruction
Like perfect trees do not get a tattoo

Trees painted blue better symbolize pain
We feel when what’s natural we must stain.