Tuesday, March 27, 2012


I have been thinking lately that all form is merely an organization of space and time.
A leaf, a song, a painting.
A butterfly.

I was in the Butterfly Conservatory at the Museum of Natural History in New York City last week with my thirteen year-old son. The fluttering of the wings breaks down the space around you into fragmented units of time and space. Dancing with the beat of your own heart, the inhale and exhale of each breath. The fractured space begins to break through the perceived envelope of your body.

The butterfly dances you.