Another component of my upcoming exhibit is an art journal or two about the science and mythology of the Monarch...it has led to me to some amazing discoveries, one that I have recorded on this journal page...
Elizabeth Kubler Ross visited the Maidanek concentration camp in 1946, she found the walls of the children's barracks covered in hundred of drawn and scratched butterflies.
I'm baring witness
to the many many souls
on that gentle breath
haiku my heart...also the anniversary of the death of my dad, his soul floating on the breath of the Monarch
Profound and touching....your haiku is so beautiful...such a sweet memory
Posted by: Jean | March 14, 2014 at 05:12 AM
I cant imagine wwhat ms. ross felt when she saw those drawings! I'll never look at a monarch the same again! how did you find that bit of history ? were they counting the days in butterflys? or drawing themas people disappeared -we'l never know
Posted by: lyle baxter | March 14, 2014 at 06:01 AM
i will never forget the butterflies coming to you, and others of our group as we walked in the procession arms full of flowers, tears on our checks and the profound presence of our loved ones now passed, right beside us.
may you feel your father ever near.
xoxo
Posted by: rebecca | March 14, 2014 at 07:29 AM
Ow, beautiful!
Posted by: Reading Pleasure | March 14, 2014 at 07:54 AM
I love the gentleness in your words! Beautiful!
Posted by: WabiSabi | March 14, 2014 at 07:56 AM
That must magic in the concentration camp. Fun and good luck on your upcoming exhibit.
Posted by: Hazel | March 14, 2014 at 08:05 AM
xoxoxoxoxo
Posted by: Laura Hegfield | March 14, 2014 at 08:36 AM
Lovely tribute and remembrance of those children,to your Dad, and all who have gone before. Your passion displayed beautifully.
Posted by: gemma | March 14, 2014 at 11:11 AM
So beautiful Steph
I am feeling the gentle breath
of my butterfly Mama
today on her birthday...
and the whispers
of many beloved souls
(remembering your Dad on this special day)
winging lightheartedly
on a balmy breeze
much love to you,
xox - eb.
Posted by: elizabeth bunsen | March 14, 2014 at 12:34 PM
It is my youngest son's birthday today,
he turns 35 now, is a father himself,
he was born seven days before my mother died.
Much butterfly meaning here for all of us,
thank you...x
Posted by: Susan Fox | March 14, 2014 at 02:24 PM
Hi Stephanie. I know that the butterflies that come in my yard are the souls of my loved ones now gone. Soon they will be here. Beautiful post and blessings to your dear Father.
Posted by: gloria | March 14, 2014 at 06:26 PM
on that gentle breath ~ so powerful and your journal is exquisite and so needed as a reminder of the monarch butterflies ~ xxx
artmusedog and carol
www.acreativeharbor.com
Posted by: artmusedog and carol | March 15, 2014 at 08:43 AM
...the butterflies... what a blessing they truly are... thank you for sharing... we too are blessed in the gift of giving...
Posted by: ms pie | March 15, 2014 at 02:05 PM
To be a witness is as sacred task.
Posted by: magicalmysticalteacher | March 16, 2014 at 07:30 AM
"a" not "as"
Posted by: magicalmysticalteacher | March 16, 2014 at 07:31 AM