Butterfly-Colored Glasses

This photo brought to you through the magic of  Butterfly Vision!
What do you see with your Butterfly Eyes?
Hint:  It is usually a Dream Captured by Time.

Silk Scarf

Just another of the numberless hopes my mother sent into the Universe, to see if this time the Universe would answer her with the rewards it seemed to bestow on others who worked no harder, loved no more loyally, spent no more frugally, imagined no less ambitiously.

I know just how she felt.

Happy St. Butterfly’s Day

Ben Wineke is one of the new friends Mom made when she moved to Verona, and established herself as a drinker of chai at the Sow’s Ear.  I say “is” because I think they still are friends, even though her part of the conversation about Ireland and Daniel Day Lewis is on a different channel now.   When Ben and Mom met, his personal style was still emerging.  He has since resolved, as he says, to “Bring dapper back!” with true finesse and originality.  Ben donned this butterfly, in her honor, for my St. Patrick’s day picture.  Barbara would say, “He looks grand!”

Impossible to Say

If you knew her then, you can hear the jingle of her bracelets and the glassy ring of brushes in the water cup, and the tin foil rustle of colors mixing; you can smell the cigarette smoke and freshly opened paints and possibly Chamade or Arpege; you know how she held her hand just like that, you remember the tv and radio out of frame, and possibly a fuschia can of TaB.  But mostly, if you know who you are now, you know that when you knew her then, she was trying – trying so very, very hard.