The quad at the University of Washington.
I like how this sort of fades away to stylization, just random islands of light at the bottom.
They smell wonderful. Not strong, not really very flowery, but faintly sweet and kind of pale or silvery. A bit like ocean salt without the metallic undertones.
They make of light a three-dimensional thing. Normally we're used to light on things, in rough rectangular shapes on the ground or against the sides of buildings. But you can see light in space, here, track its footprints on every petal, how the wind moves through it, and how it curls and sifts and breathes.
They're wierd trees. Dream trees, like children draw before they learn that large branches come out of the gnarled trunks, and medium branches come out of large ones, and small from medium, and sticks from the small branches, and twigs and spurs from sticks, and leaves from only the finest of twigs. Before everything has a place and a purpose, we know these trees. Wraith-twisted, with leaf and blossom on the trunk, and twigs jutting fine and sharp as thorns from branches so large you cannot encircle them with both arms.
I think I like the out-of-place strangeness of the flowers on the trunk the best.
Ended up fooling around with india ink, water, newsprint. I've little of talent or skill for painting, but I enjoy it. By the time I was done, there were fallen cherry petals floating in the mug I was using for a water-dish, which I found neat enough to warrant a picture.