The Traveling Plant: Preparatory Logbook

Eduardo Kac

Yeah, I know

Chicago, USA
Artist

Expanding Rose looked at the tall vase in her hands and felt uncomfortable. She walked over to the window and reflected on her lush surroundings. She had always loved opulent Vertical Forest with its teeny-tiny, sparkling trees, houses, rivers. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel vaporous. Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Pineapple Jack, a courageous elephant with dirty lips and fluffy fingers. Expanding Rose gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a deranged water drinker with spiky arms and vast hair. Her friends saw her as a teeny-tiny, knotty tree. Once, she had even helped a squishy toddler cross the road. But not even a deranged plant was prepared for what Pineapple Jack had in store today. The rain hammered like jogging humming birds, making Expanding Rose excited. As she stepped outside and Pineapple Jack came closer, she could see the freshly-squeezed glint in his eye. Pineapple Jack gazed with the affection of 2652 generous old ostriches. He said, in hushed tones, “Arborescence!” Expanding Rose looked back, even more excited. “Pineapple Jack, when I saw plants in Jupiter, I wondered,” she replied. They looked at each other with miraculous feelings, like two frail flamingos bouncing at a very rainbowy opening of the Space Garden, which had trance music playing in the background and two understanding uncles swimming to the beat. Expanding Rose regarded Pineapple Jack’s dirty lips and fluffy fingers. “I feel the same way!” revealed Expanding Rose with a delighted grin. Pineapple Jack looked empathic, his emotions blushing like a chilly, colossal cachepot. Then Pineapple Jack came inside for a nice drink of water. “One for the road,” he said.