Holy lens flair, Batman. This is what happens when you don’t use Google Earth to map your location and cross-reference the precise time of day to get the choicest position of the sun for your photo shoot. Architectural Photography 101 goes out the window when you are in the car with Dug and Diana (driver and shotgun respectively) and Dug shouts, “What IS that?!”

Me (all knees mangled in the back): What is what?! I can’t see! (failed attempt to reorganize limbs)

Dug: That! That tree?!

Me: What tree?! There are plenty of tre… Ohhhhh. That tree!

Diana: Pull over. Pull over.

Dug: Whoa…

Me: ohmygosh… Do you think it’s decorated for Easter?! (more reorganizing of limbs)

Dug: Whoa…

Me: Do you think the neighbors are pissed?! (now there’s a cramped neck situation)

Dug: I don’t know but I’m pretty sure you need to take pictures of this for the blog.

Me: Pictures? Really?!…

Me: Someone might see me… (minor panic attack)

Dug: Get the eff out of this car and get over yourself.

Truly, I have no idea what Dug actually said at this point that gave me the courage to get out of the car and start taking pictures of some stranger’s house like a total creeper, and I am 100% certain he wasn’t mean, and did not use foul language, especially given that were were with Diana and he is clearly still beating me in the most good-natured offspring award because, well, have you met me? But he must have said something because the next thing I know I am standing by myself in the middle of the street in a total anxiety haze, unsuccessfully working the manual setting dials and taking pictures of some stranger’s house like a total creeper.

So Diana and Dug are squinting at me through the car windshield as I try to 1.) ignore the people on the block and pretend this is all totally normal 2.) stand in the middle of the street paying very little attention to traffic while hopefully not getting hit by a car (I decide to rely on my hearing) 3.) figure out if there is a place for me to stand where the sun is not shining into my lens at the complete wrong angle (there is not) 4.) find the settings on my camera that might actually allow me take a photo that is not completely white or black (what the hell was I shooting last? oh, pussy willows, indoors, in low lighting) and lastly 5.) not melt into a pool of anxiety on the floor because this is somebody’s house, probably some mean person’s house who wants to eat me like in Hansel and Gretel.

You’d think I’d be used to this since I take pictures of people’s homes for a living, but I pretty much always have written consent and a government or religious pardon and assurances that all monsters, mythological or otherwise, have been removed from the premises prior to my arrival. What?! You think I’m overreacting? A flair for the dramatics you say? Let’s be real here, People. Someone who obsessively ties stuffed animals into trees by their necks with rope may or may not be off his meds. I’m just sayin’ there’s not quite enough information to judge my safety at this point.

Enter Eugene. He walks right up to me and says with a huge grin that immediately won my heart, “Guess whose house this is?!” And the most interesting guy I have met in a while, puts me totally at ease and proceeds to give me a tour of his incredibly awesome Plushie tree.

I caught him approaching in one photo, but when I asked to get a close up with his creation he was reticent to comply. That didn’t temper his enthusiasm though. We talked about the care that goes into selecting each stuffie’s location. The balance of the whole thing is pretty incredible, with the tiny guys all together creating there own little party closest to the ground and the very biggest of guys, enormous really, at the forks and center. And every single one seems to be staring down at pedestrians, all with their own personalities shining through.

It’s incredible how much is going on up in there. The more you look, the more there is to see. I guarantee you can find all your favorites, old and new.

There’s Taz on a snowboard.

Check out the fork of tinies on the left with one of Gru’s Minion looming overhead. Of course you can’t miss Garfield, but did you see the smurf and pirate Elmo?

That dolphin to Dora’s right is the only guy that fell during Hurricane Irene. And he fell again when Eugene was pointing him out. And there’s one of my personal nostalgic favorites, Clifford el gran perro colorado, because I read all the Clifford book en Español as a child through RIF.

There’s Chuckie ominously high up on the left. And look at the balance Eugene created when you view the tree from afar. It’s a pretty amazing piece of living contemporary art.

This experience would never have happened if I didn’t have a blog. Or Dug. I wouldn’t have gotten out of the car to look at the tree. I wouldn’t have met and talked to Eugene. He wouldn’t have told me about the blossoms and invited me back to photograph the tree in bloom. How cool is that? Maybe we’ll follow Eugene’s Brooklyn Plushie Tree throughout the seasons. He said he’d look out for us when we came by next time, and now that I’ve calmed down a bit and he made me feel so welcome, I have tons more questions for him. First and foremost, what made him hang his first stuffie? How does he get so high up? And what do his neighbors say?

So if I get the chance to speak to Eugene again, is there anything you’d like me to ask him?