• Vol. 10
  • Chapter 10

The Tree of Consciousness

It was the mystery that tantalized everyone's tongues and reverberated in their ears: How on earth did the car tree come to be? Some speculated that it was a prank by some bored youths while others posited that it was the work of a mysterious artistic genius. Whether the result of utter lawlessness or painstaking creativity, everyone agreed that it was a sight to behold.

Proudly erected at the edge of Madison Park, the structure was a thing of curiosity, and it could not be missed from the adjacent Hemsworth Highway. Almost half a dozen sedans were stacked one on top of the other and mounted on what must have been the tallest tree stump that side of the country. The whole project stood like a perfectly laid metallic and rubber club sandwich. How ever were those cars placed there and how did they manage not to fall? These questions boomeranged in the minds of many a driver as the brightly multicolored monument caused them to slow at first to a snail's pace before coming to a complete halt on the six-lane highway, mouths fixed in incredulity.

Of course, it attracted many visitors from far and wide who came to bear witness to the attraction that glittered in the sunlight, casting brilliant beams of light. Perhaps everyone was wrong. Perhaps this was a beacon to someone or something far away. That would have explained so much, yet it also would have created as many, or more, questions as it provided answers.

No one knew the true story – no one that is, except for its creator. The young lad loved tinkering with old cars about as much as he loved trees. He always dreamed of creating something that was as equally unique as it was beautiful. He had spent years in his father's junkyard, collecting cars, picking them down and rebuilding them. Some of the cars were too far beyond repair to be salvaged and that gave birth to his idea.


The Tree of Consciousness

He had planned everything carefully, waiting for the right moment to unveil the inner workings of his mind. He waited for a relatively quiet night, drove a crane to the park and hoisted the cars on top of the tallest tree stump there. Not wanting anyone to get injured as a result of his masterpiece, he used bolts to secure the cars in place. He worked diligently to finish just before the break of the next day.

He was not looking for fame or fortune and drove away with a sense of pride. He felt strongly that people spent too much time engaging in mindless activities. This was his attempt to share a part of himself with the world and to make people think.

Somehow, he knew that the discourse that was generated would cause people to live more consciously and so, he never went back to see his artwork again. The impact of it was what he was after, and he got that.