I am so not engaged in my schoolwork right now. My favorite classes are over so all those long, hard, satisfying days struggling with my work in the art studio are over. Letting it all loose in improv sessions for acting class is gone. All that I am left with are essays and final exams.
I was reminded the other day that grades actually have jack shit to do with how smart you are. I keep trying to tell myself that I don't care about them but I am so caught up in the idea that they matter in some way.
Of course I don't actually have any real interest in doing something with my life that requires getting good grades.
The whole exercise feels pointless.
Today is one of those odd late spring warm, cloudy days.
I stood underneath the million dollar tree earlier
It was still wet from the rain last night, drying slowly in the moist air
It is called the million dollar tree because my school had to redesign the plans for the library additions when students protested cutting down the tree. They lost 1 million dollars to save it.
And how very worth it it was
this behemoth is priceless
his skin is the wrinkled gray of an elephant
Bulbous warts decorate his trunk
And every spring he retains his youth
With paper thin, silk soft new leaves
they are green tinged with rose
filtering light through the shelter of his branches
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