One of my favorite documentaries is called A Man Named Pearl. It is about an artist of trees. At one point viewers learn that he is not trained or schooled in the magic that he creates. He is in conversation with form, shape, trees, shrubs, texture and structure. He has found his center, his gift and his calling. He is in conversation with the divine. Indeed, he does not question how he can do what he does, he simply does his thing. Sort of like nature. Sort of like us.
I am now a member of an elite club. The price of admission is high. I hope you never join. Unfortunately, most of us live long enough to do so. I am a member of the dead momma club. I was accepted on Nov. 16, 2009, some time during the early morning. There is this thing that happens; one minute you are dealing with the sick, stubborn, difficult rock of your world. The next, folk are talking to you about 'the body'. What to do with it, when to view it, where it is... I was just numb.
In my time as a pro-artist I have had two studio assistants. One is named Sylva; she did and does magic with food. She is a touch of a jack of many artistic forms. She sews, cooks, and makes stuff. But in general her favorite language is food--American nouvelle cuisine. Heather use to 'do hair'; now she 'does jewelry' on the western coast. She moved across the country and met and married Gene, and they have two children Sophia and Dominic.
Heather became a member of the dead momma club, I believe, sometime in 2008. There is this understanding between us, and no 'thoughtful' horrible questions. Death is full of details. So, not long after my mother died, Heather and her family came back east to deal with some more of the details of her mother's life--the house, the will, the paperwork of informing the world that mom is gone, the family dramas and, the worst, what to do with all her stuff. While on this trip of 'dealing with stuff', Heather gifted me with a visit during our times of grief . Because of the kids, we decided to meet up at the Smithsonian's Museum of Natural History.
At that time I was so numb I saw rainbow halo's around the street lights, the way you do after a no-sleep night at the clubs followed by a 8:00am lecture and ... It was great being around her family. The mammoth in the Natural History Museum just does the trick for kids and adults alike.
This was my first time meeting the children. I had heard tales and, via e-mail and Face book, had seen many funny pictures of them, so I felt like I knew them. However, they were very shy of me. Sophia, the oldest, sort of peeped at me for the first hour, taking her lead from her mother. After awhile Heather and I led the way to our favorite exhibit, the gem collection. We both lamented the use of our favorite stones as display items., telling each other how we could really make better use of the pieces in jewelry of our own designs. We shared a deep sigh over the poor Hope Diamond not being worn by one of us. Really, I look so good in sky blue.
Our moods were lifting. I can not say if this exhibition was enjoyed as much by Gene and Dominic, but Sophia was starting to focus. At some point we went to the insect zoo. To say that the children were in their element is an understatement. They loved it. I remember watching Sophia get her mother--my friend, the diva, the I-hate-bugs queen of high heeled shoes, gettin' hair 'did', and full face make-up--to pet what I believe was a hissing cockroach from Madagascar. Her daughter looked on with glee as Heather allowed the thing to crawl on her arm. I thought, now that is momma love.
At some point in the insect section Sophia was so overjoyed, that she grabbed my hand to show me something. She smiled up at me. It was so nice. I felt good. Her warmth, excitement and trust just open something up in me. I remember thinking, I am not dead inside.
We were in luck: the Natural History Museum was also having a special living exhibition on butterflies. Heather, Sophia and I went in (Dominic was too young ,so Gene waited outside with the stroller.) The Smithsonian 'put theirfoot in it'. Wow! there were all types of butterflies flying about. This exhibition had excellent information on habitat, coloration, shapes, foods, locations in the world and more. We were enraptured. Butterflies landed on us and we had to stand still so that the museum staff could pull them off of us without damaging their wings. We walked slowly, trying to take it all in. I remember one miniature encased section on butterflies in their chrysalis phase of life; one type of chrysalis was magnificent, like a jewel--that is to say, a celadon opaque with golden notches all around it. It was so hard to believe it was real...and then I saw it breathe. The exhibition was excellent. They had the flora, fauna and food of the butterflies. One could see which types of butterflies ate which kinds of food or liked alighting on which types of plants. Sophia could not get enough. She oohed, ah'd, looked, pointed and asked tons of questions.
When we came out, Heather and I remarked on how much better we felt. How much more alive we were. We saw a bit more of the museum, ate a late lunch and went our separate ways to once again deal with the details of our mother's lives.
I went through the motions of the holiday season. I sold stuff, saw folk, and smiled. Dealt with details. I raised hell at Eastern Market. I did not stop and take a breath until...I did.
I took the winter of 2011 off, and I went to Mexico. I am blessed and cursed with a powerfully strong personality, will and character. So when I set my mind to something, I do it. I speak Spanish and I wanted to improve it, visit a friend, and maybe just maybe go to a place in Mexico that I had read about and viewed a documentary on. At first I did not know where it was: would it be close to my school? Would it be too remote, too expensive, too dangerous, too, too.. to really go?
But everything fell into place. I contacted the wrong school and they gave me the right price. I came at the right time of year. My classmate came from the other end of the world, but had adventurous and kind spirits. My Spanish teacher had been to this place before, and she also ran a hostel and was more than generous with calling and making reservation in rapid-fire Spanish and searching out economical prices. So, yeah, I did it. I went to La Reserva Mariposa Monararca in the eastern region of Michoacan, Mexico.
It was a six hour bus ride through the night from Guadalajara to La Reserva de la Biosfera las Mariposas in Michoacan. Tanya, my classmate--a primary school teacher on sabbatical from Australia-- found the tour. She was with a group of soon-to-be teachers of English to children in Mexico. I usually travel solo, but was quite unsure of my Spanish; later I was glad I had gone with her and her friends. We traveled though the night, on a bus more like the Peter Pan line than Greyhound (i.e. cleaner and quieter.) By the morning, we were not in or near the second largest city in Mexico. We were yonder, and going deeper. I think at one point the driver got lost. La Reserva is not easy to find.
In many smaller pueblos or rural areas in Mexico, when you arrive at your destination, and even during the trip at various stops folk are selling large cups full of fresh pineapple, mango, and watermelon which they serve with chili, lime and salt, or fresh roasted corn on the cob, or aguas de tamarido, pina, or... At La Reserva the folks were selling hand made hats and walking sticks. We had traveled six hours and now it was time to climb and climb and climb. I was fighting a losing battle with a cold, so I moved very slowly. The entrance we took, 'El Rosario', to La Reserva was considered by my "Lonely Planet" guide book to be the touristy entrance (the reserve has more than four entrances spread out over quite a large area). Here are some images.
I loved the stalls of food and craft items that lined the walk. We walked up a steep incline 12km to reach the reserve. The mountain range for the reserva rises over three thousand meters. This little walk had even the gusto folk pausing to take a breath. Then I reached the pasture, and I was thinking ,OK I am finally here and "I saw not a butterfly to first" I was like what the... ? The guides at the entrance to the reserve had suggested maybe visitors should rent horses, but my attitude was horseback equals riding on a big dog and it might bite. However, at the pasture folk were getting off the horses with still more of a" un poco mas lejos para alli" I ain't saying that my Mexican brothers and sisters have a difference notion of distance but, uh, well, they ain't exactly...German...about precision.
_______________________________________________________________________________
* A few facts
The migratory habits of the monarch butterfly in this region of the world were not discovered until the 20th century. "The wings of the monarch butterfly feature an easily recognizable orange and black pattern, with a wingspan of ...3.34 inches to 4.92 inches. Female monarchs have darker veins on their wings, and the males have a spot in the center of each hind wing from which pheromones are released. The caterpillars likewise have bright stripes." New World Encyclopedia Most butterflies have relatively short life spans, about nine weeks, and this varies with species. However, the butterflies that make the 'great migration' to Mexico from Canada and the Great Lakes region and the East Coast of the United States have been given a much longer life span. They fly almost 4500km to reach La Reserva, starting in the autumn to overwinter and breed ('hit it, get busy, do the nasty' etc) in the forests of Michoacan. I have read that at times they do the reproductive dance in flight upside down. The JOY OF SEX don't have nothin' on nature. The trees in this forest are mostly pine and oyenal (fir) tree. "It takes from three to five generations of butterflies ( living one to eight months each) to complete the entire round-trip journey from Canada to Mexico and back, says the Lonely Planet guidebook. One of the great mysteries of these insects is how are they able to navigate from Canada to Mexico?
Monarch Butterfly
Scientific classification
Kingdom: Animalia
Phylum: Arthropoda
Class: Insecta
Order: Lepidoptera
Superfamily: Papilionidea
Family: Nymphalidae
Subfamily: Danainae
Tribe: Danaini
Genus: Danaus
Species: Danaus plexippus
What is the job of the butterfly in the ecosystem of the world? Why, to eat and be eaten. As they eat nectar from flower to flower they also collect and transfer pollen from plant to plant. One can think of this as 'safe sex'. And butterflies son unos de los platos preferridos de las ranas, los murcielagos, los aves, las serpientes, las lagartijas y algunos monos.
___________________________________________________________________________________
So, we finally get to the spot. It is 9:30am and, well, we wait and wait. I am wheezing because of my not- chest-cold. The air is thin and fresh. I start looking for butterflies. I see a few dead ones on the ground. The guides are standing in the middle of the road near a roped off area. I am wondering, what am I doing here, where are all the butterflies, what are we waiting for? And then, and then ...the sun hits their wings.
For the the dead momma club las Mariposas Monarca
I won't say they blocked out the sky, but they filled the air. I am left with images that words cannot express. I met a women visiting with her husband, from. I don't remember where in Mexico We both witnessed this natural phenomenon as a testament to our faith and belief in the divine, god, a presence or force in the universe that has created designs, patterns and cycles in nature, and humankind. I was in my bliss. I remember thinking of Heather, Sophia and the exhibition we had gone to over a year ago in Washington, DC. I took photos, I walked off the path a little into the forest. I started back and sat in that meadow now aflutter with wings in golden orange. I lost time. I meandered down the path taking it all in.
I was thirty minutes late returning to the bus and if not for Tanya (my guardian angel from Australia) I would have been left at La Reserva. Patterns in nature, chance, luck? She held the bus up, she told them to wait for me. I was sitting in a pasture of butterflies in my bliss.
_____________________________________________________________________________
I wrote very few people when I was away in Mexico, mostly just the dead momma club members and a few others. When I returned stateside, I ask these folks about the images that I had sent them. Most did not receive the images from Michoacan. Heather had done a backyard nature project with her daughter who loved butterflies. I asked Heather if I could tell our story of the museum and about details ... I asked Heather for pictures of that day. I asked Heather to ask her daughter some questions about butterflies. Here are Sophia's responses..
The following are images of Sophia's project her backyard taken by her mom, Heather
There is a transcendence that happens when you live your dreams. It is a bizarre touch of magic. It keeps me warm in the winter as I stand outside in entertaining weather at the art markets I work. I remember I swam in the North Sea, studied metalsmithing in Ireland, went to the 2005 Cannes Film Festival, spent three summers in the South of France, sat in a pasture on the side of a mountain in late February and witnessed the unexplainable in flight. I laugh inside when I am asked how can you stand out here all day in this cold?, because I am so warm inside.
Witnessing Joy,
Sonda
I am now a member of an elite club. The price of admission is high. I hope you never join. Unfortunately, most of us live long enough to do so. I am a member of the dead momma club. I was accepted on Nov. 16, 2009, some time during the early morning. There is this thing that happens; one minute you are dealing with the sick, stubborn, difficult rock of your world. The next, folk are talking to you about 'the body'. What to do with it, when to view it, where it is... I was just numb.
In my time as a pro-artist I have had two studio assistants. One is named Sylva; she did and does magic with food. She is a touch of a jack of many artistic forms. She sews, cooks, and makes stuff. But in general her favorite language is food--American nouvelle cuisine. Heather use to 'do hair'; now she 'does jewelry' on the western coast. She moved across the country and met and married Gene, and they have two children Sophia and Dominic.
Heather became a member of the dead momma club, I believe, sometime in 2008. There is this understanding between us, and no 'thoughtful' horrible questions. Death is full of details. So, not long after my mother died, Heather and her family came back east to deal with some more of the details of her mother's life--the house, the will, the paperwork of informing the world that mom is gone, the family dramas and, the worst, what to do with all her stuff. While on this trip of 'dealing with stuff', Heather gifted me with a visit during our times of grief . Because of the kids, we decided to meet up at the Smithsonian's Museum of Natural History.
At that time I was so numb I saw rainbow halo's around the street lights, the way you do after a no-sleep night at the clubs followed by a 8:00am lecture and ... It was great being around her family. The mammoth in the Natural History Museum just does the trick for kids and adults alike.
This was my first time meeting the children. I had heard tales and, via e-mail and Face book, had seen many funny pictures of them, so I felt like I knew them. However, they were very shy of me. Sophia, the oldest, sort of peeped at me for the first hour, taking her lead from her mother. After awhile Heather and I led the way to our favorite exhibit, the gem collection. We both lamented the use of our favorite stones as display items., telling each other how we could really make better use of the pieces in jewelry of our own designs. We shared a deep sigh over the poor Hope Diamond not being worn by one of us. Really, I look so good in sky blue.
 |
| Sophia, Heather, Dominic and Gene |
Our moods were lifting. I can not say if this exhibition was enjoyed as much by Gene and Dominic, but Sophia was starting to focus. At some point we went to the insect zoo. To say that the children were in their element is an understatement. They loved it. I remember watching Sophia get her mother--my friend, the diva, the I-hate-bugs queen of high heeled shoes, gettin' hair 'did', and full face make-up--to pet what I believe was a hissing cockroach from Madagascar. Her daughter looked on with glee as Heather allowed the thing to crawl on her arm. I thought, now that is momma love.
 |
| Momma Love |
At some point in the insect section Sophia was so overjoyed, that she grabbed my hand to show me something. She smiled up at me. It was so nice. I felt good. Her warmth, excitement and trust just open something up in me. I remember thinking, I am not dead inside.
We were in luck: the Natural History Museum was also having a special living exhibition on butterflies. Heather, Sophia and I went in (Dominic was too young ,so Gene waited outside with the stroller.) The Smithsonian 'put theirfoot in it'. Wow! there were all types of butterflies flying about. This exhibition had excellent information on habitat, coloration, shapes, foods, locations in the world and more. We were enraptured. Butterflies landed on us and we had to stand still so that the museum staff could pull them off of us without damaging their wings. We walked slowly, trying to take it all in. I remember one miniature encased section on butterflies in their chrysalis phase of life; one type of chrysalis was magnificent, like a jewel--that is to say, a celadon opaque with golden notches all around it. It was so hard to believe it was real...and then I saw it breathe. The exhibition was excellent. They had the flora, fauna and food of the butterflies. One could see which types of butterflies ate which kinds of food or liked alighting on which types of plants. Sophia could not get enough. She oohed, ah'd, looked, pointed and asked tons of questions.
When we came out, Heather and I remarked on how much better we felt. How much more alive we were. We saw a bit more of the museum, ate a late lunch and went our separate ways to once again deal with the details of our mother's lives.
I went through the motions of the holiday season. I sold stuff, saw folk, and smiled. Dealt with details. I raised hell at Eastern Market. I did not stop and take a breath until...I did.
I took the winter of 2011 off, and I went to Mexico. I am blessed and cursed with a powerfully strong personality, will and character. So when I set my mind to something, I do it. I speak Spanish and I wanted to improve it, visit a friend, and maybe just maybe go to a place in Mexico that I had read about and viewed a documentary on. At first I did not know where it was: would it be close to my school? Would it be too remote, too expensive, too dangerous, too, too.. to really go?
But everything fell into place. I contacted the wrong school and they gave me the right price. I came at the right time of year. My classmate came from the other end of the world, but had adventurous and kind spirits. My Spanish teacher had been to this place before, and she also ran a hostel and was more than generous with calling and making reservation in rapid-fire Spanish and searching out economical prices. So, yeah, I did it. I went to La Reserva Mariposa Monararca in the eastern region of Michoacan, Mexico.
 |
| Tanya, my classmate from Australia |
 |
| Mi profesora horrible, Karina, teaching me the proper use of the word " Changa" |
In many smaller pueblos or rural areas in Mexico, when you arrive at your destination, and even during the trip at various stops folk are selling large cups full of fresh pineapple, mango, and watermelon which they serve with chili, lime and salt, or fresh roasted corn on the cob, or aguas de tamarido, pina, or... At La Reserva the folks were selling hand made hats and walking sticks. We had traveled six hours and now it was time to climb and climb and climb. I was fighting a losing battle with a cold, so I moved very slowly. The entrance we took, 'El Rosario', to La Reserva was considered by my "Lonely Planet" guide book to be the touristy entrance (the reserve has more than four entrances spread out over quite a large area). Here are some images.
 |
| Walking up to La Reserva-the commercial entrance |
 |
| La entrade de La Reserva |
 |
| In Sonda language, 'large dog', waiting in the pasture after the 'little climb' |
* A few facts
The migratory habits of the monarch butterfly in this region of the world were not discovered until the 20th century. "The wings of the monarch butterfly feature an easily recognizable orange and black pattern, with a wingspan of ...3.34 inches to 4.92 inches. Female monarchs have darker veins on their wings, and the males have a spot in the center of each hind wing from which pheromones are released. The caterpillars likewise have bright stripes." New World Encyclopedia Most butterflies have relatively short life spans, about nine weeks, and this varies with species. However, the butterflies that make the 'great migration' to Mexico from Canada and the Great Lakes region and the East Coast of the United States have been given a much longer life span. They fly almost 4500km to reach La Reserva, starting in the autumn to overwinter and breed ('hit it, get busy, do the nasty' etc) in the forests of Michoacan. I have read that at times they do the reproductive dance in flight upside down. The JOY OF SEX don't have nothin' on nature. The trees in this forest are mostly pine and oyenal (fir) tree. "It takes from three to five generations of butterflies ( living one to eight months each) to complete the entire round-trip journey from Canada to Mexico and back, says the Lonely Planet guidebook. One of the great mysteries of these insects is how are they able to navigate from Canada to Mexico?
Monarch Butterfly
Scientific classification
Kingdom: Animalia
Phylum: Arthropoda
Class: Insecta
Order: Lepidoptera
Superfamily: Papilionidea
Family: Nymphalidae
Subfamily: Danainae
Tribe: Danaini
Genus: Danaus
Species: Danaus plexippus
What is the job of the butterfly in the ecosystem of the world? Why, to eat and be eaten. As they eat nectar from flower to flower they also collect and transfer pollen from plant to plant. One can think of this as 'safe sex'. And butterflies son unos de los platos preferridos de las ranas, los murcielagos, los aves, las serpientes, las lagartijas y algunos monos.
___________________________________________________________________________________
So, we finally get to the spot. It is 9:30am and, well, we wait and wait. I am wheezing because of my not- chest-cold. The air is thin and fresh. I start looking for butterflies. I see a few dead ones on the ground. The guides are standing in the middle of the road near a roped off area. I am wondering, what am I doing here, where are all the butterflies, what are we waiting for? And then, and then ...the sun hits their wings.
For the the dead momma club las Mariposas Monarca
I won't say they blocked out the sky, but they filled the air. I am left with images that words cannot express. I met a women visiting with her husband, from. I don't remember where in Mexico We both witnessed this natural phenomenon as a testament to our faith and belief in the divine, god, a presence or force in the universe that has created designs, patterns and cycles in nature, and humankind. I was in my bliss. I remember thinking of Heather, Sophia and the exhibition we had gone to over a year ago in Washington, DC. I took photos, I walked off the path a little into the forest. I started back and sat in that meadow now aflutter with wings in golden orange. I lost time. I meandered down the path taking it all in.
 |
| Sights going back down the path from La Reserva |
I was thirty minutes late returning to the bus and if not for Tanya (my guardian angel from Australia) I would have been left at La Reserva. Patterns in nature, chance, luck? She held the bus up, she told them to wait for me. I was sitting in a pasture of butterflies in my bliss.
_____________________________________________________________________________
I wrote very few people when I was away in Mexico, mostly just the dead momma club members and a few others. When I returned stateside, I ask these folks about the images that I had sent them. Most did not receive the images from Michoacan. Heather had done a backyard nature project with her daughter who loved butterflies. I asked Heather if I could tell our story of the museum and about details ... I asked Heather for pictures of that day. I asked Heather to ask her daughter some questions about butterflies. Here are Sophia's responses..
Ms. Sonda,
I had fun taking care of and watching the butterflies grow and change. After they left their chrysalises we fed the butterflies orange slices and sugar water. A few days later, when it was warm enough, we let them go. I was sad and excited to see them fly away. I can't wait to grow more butterflies this spring. Love, Sophia
Mz. Sonda,
I grew the butterflies at home with my family and Ella the cat. We also grew butterflies at school but that was later.
-Love,
Sophia
This year Sophia et. al went to Disneyland and in California, so my last question was what kind of butterflies did they 'grow' and how did she like her trio to Disney?
Mz.Sonda,
We grew the Painted Lady butterflies May of last year.
I saw a lot of Princesses in Disney and I really liked Tinkerbell.
Love,
Sophia
The following are images of Sophia's project her backyard taken by her mom, Heather
 |
| Butterfly growing |
 |
| Butterflies eating |
 |
| Mz. Sophia in her bliss |
There is a transcendence that happens when you live your dreams. It is a bizarre touch of magic. It keeps me warm in the winter as I stand outside in entertaining weather at the art markets I work. I remember I swam in the North Sea, studied metalsmithing in Ireland, went to the 2005 Cannes Film Festival, spent three summers in the South of France, sat in a pasture on the side of a mountain in late February and witnessed the unexplainable in flight. I laugh inside when I am asked how can you stand out here all day in this cold?, because I am so warm inside.
Witnessing Joy,
Sonda
1 comment:
Just wonderful Sonda, the story, the writing, the photos! Good luck with this new project, I love it and I'll be looking forward to every post!
Have a great weekend! :-)
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