("After spending time with my family the other day, I had the opportunity to photograph my oldest brother’s beloved collections of butterflies and moths, which he started as a boy, and stopped over 30 years ago. I hold vivid memories of these beautiful creatures hanging in rows in wooden cases on his wall, each one identified by a tiny precise tag, scientific name and location documented. I was mesmerized by them. I am sure that these memories combine with my own experience of running through the fields as a child, following the flight paths of all delicately winged colorful beings, which now emerge through my many butterfly/moth-influenced sculptures. I know that I envied their freedom of flight, and the way they could seem to choose their direction on a whim, rest when they wanted, and soak up the sunshine-filled flowers.
Sadly, my brother had not gotten them out of his storage area (with his vast collections of found arrowheads and stones and nature bits that line those shelves— he has an incredible connection to nature), and found almost all of them to have been destroyed by carpet beetles, leaving only a few broken wings and their dust in the bottoms of the cases, the pins now standing alone. The lesson of impermanence was painful and shocking, as it often is. However, he obliged to let me photograph even the remnants, which I found beautiful in their own right, seeming reflective of how we emerge through life’s experiences... a bit frayed, torn, battered, even, yet what is left is still full of life, and the inherent beauty of our essence. To have the chance to take my macro lens up to the very fibers of their wings and bodies in all states of fullness or decay, made me happy beyond words. It was incredibly exciting to study the patterns, colors, textures, shapes, and sizes that made up the wings and their varying undersides. I had the chance to see many that remained intact from travels to Mexico, an amazing treat with their surreal explosion of color and form. I always photograph things in real life to use in my sculptural work, as this connection is vital for my finished work. I left reminded of the value of each day we get...")