Not that many people see butterflies in the snowy sunset. Not that many people are looking, though.
Lake Butterfly – Butterfly 5
Thanks for visiting my butterfly party.
Shared Butterflies – Butterfly 4
“Butterflies can emerge in many forms. Their wings unfurl in luxuriant flashes of color and light, appearing like peacock feathers emerging from the heart.”
Today is the 400th time we have met here. Four hundred times, I looked in my heart for something to tell you, a way to show you as much as I can that is real about me. Four hundred blinks of a mechanical eye, which sees so much better than I ever can, clearing away another infinitesimal layer between you and me, but always, always between my own heart and my self.
And to the blackest questions that have worried and gnawed on me, this answer continues to offer itself: what is beautiful, remains. In this much, I have confidence: what is beautiful, remains. Do you ever say it to yourself? You can. You might try it. Let me know what happens.
Today’s butterfly is my gift to you. To receive 4×6 prints of either of the pictures above (2 per person), either:
- Go to my new, completely vanilla Etsy shop What is Beautiful Remains, (officially called beautifulremains owing to Etsy naming limitations). Don’t buy the listing, but send me a convo (Etsy’s email), and I will create a custom listing for you (and anyone else you want to share with). From there, we complete the transaction – Etsy will make me charge you .20, but I will refund that to your paypal.
- If you don’t have an etsy account and you don’t want to sign up for one, just leave me a comment here and we will figure it out by email. It’s nice to do it through Etsy because I get to practice making my work more public (gasp – the internet is public?)
Each 4×6 print is professionally printed to order on Fuji Matte or Pearl paper.
I fully expect this to be a technological disaster, but it will help me get this ball rolling! Thank you dears, from the bottom of my heart. Everything here has happened because I thought of you and me, together in spirits, even when we are far apart, and I cannot imagine my life without these 400 moments with you.
Surrender of Butterflies – Butterfly 1 thru 3
Finding butterflies is never a sure thing. It can be hard to hear the difference between my thoughts about butterflies, and the sound of actual butterflies beckoning me. What if it takes more courage than I have to follow their song? Before I even begin, it seems like I have already tried hard, and failed.
It helps to be quiet, and keep the fuss to a minimum, but the crucial factor is to trust the butterflies. When they are ready, they’ll find you. They can speak for themselves.
Who Were Here
My client closed their studio yesterday afternoon, so I hurried home, full of butterfly ideas to start on for next week. Passing the exit for the antique mall (open every day of the year except Christmas and New Year’s Day), I told myself, “Every prop you have at home started as an idea at the antique mall. Go HOME.”
I made it all the way to my front door without buying anything but gasoline. It was only 2 p.m. At least two hours of light remaining on the wall and tabletop. Just make a cup of coffee and I’m all set. Get out some butterflies, and stick them in front of the camera. Go!
The couch does look cozy, though. It couldn’t hurt to close my eyes for a few minutes, could it? I tried to fight off the cool pillows and warm sun beams as long as I could, but I know you can guess how things turned out. I was already dreaming when I made this picture.
Untied
Things that never happened:
I never made a velvet purse out of this shred from grandmothers past
I didn’t cover this board with a remnant implying dreamier, sweeter surroundings
I couldn’t be bothered to form and re-form the ribbon into a prettier swoosh
Instead, bringing my eye to what was already real, I made myself see that even if it only looks so-so, I still love it. Left just where it was, the un-selfconscious ribbon became a present from a giver who I am always meeting for the first time.
Then the light started shining, and I felt happy.
Sleeping Beauty
This is the ice cream lady. It is my firm belief that she is the exact souvenir half doll Mom received as a birthday treat at one of Indianapolis’s venerable department stores – a cheaper version of the elegant lady I used to illustrate that tale here. Dennison sold them by the dozen for party makers to use at home.
She has been living in this box with the darning thread for at least two years, waiting for her moment. During that time, she patiently cozied into her spot, where she perfectly fits and belongs. But then, all of a sudden, the other day I needed the box to hold wallpaper scraps. I took her out with some regret, knowing her home would never be quite the same.
It is funny, though, because even though the ice cream lady had been waiting a long time for her turn in the light by the window, it wasn’t until she left her little nest, that the big chance came. Now this is her spirit house, and mine – discovered by pure chance or pure unconscious, chosen now of her own free will, in anticipation of dreams yet to come.
I don’t know how the darning thread feels about all this upheaval, at all.
Multiply Choice
In this picture, I love the soft, indistinct words, the smeared edges of light changing the baby’s face from china into rubbed pastel. I made a similar image, sharply focussed on these features :
You’d think it would be easy to admit I prefer to live with blurry vision. Why is it so hard to choose?
Because I am afraid of choosing the “wrong” one. Because I want you to like it, too. You are here, after all, visiting my internet home. What will you think of a picture where nothing is clear? Don’t you want to be absolutely sure what you are seeing?
These images aren’t drafts and they aren’t revisions. It still mystifies me that my brain shut up long enough for me to hear them breathe out their whispered desire to become reality. They are different answers to different questions, and I don’t exactly understand their language. How can I know what purpose they have come for?
What With the Sun
What with the sun coming out, and the temperatures rising into ecstasies of upper 30s, I haven’t felt very wordy.
I never saw this wall before, even though it is on my regular walk. I suppose it’s always been there. The dog who lives on the porch next to this yard likes to bark. I can’t blame him. This is a pretty cool igloo – it would be a shame if someone stole it.
Stitch Cafe
Sometimes, there is just too much to say. Then, it makes sense to stitch. Words come easily to threads and needles. They know their way, following one another, curving a line here, twisting a rosy knot there. The silver eyes flash up and down, pulling color through the fabric, and the path of least resistance opens. The story comes out. It finds its place among the company and coffee cups. It belongs in the fabric, too.
That is what Wednesday afternoons are for.
what is beautiful remains 