exploding moths
a web page

"courage mon ami, le diable est mort"

"I only ask to be free, the butterflies are free"

charles dickens


thoughts through song
image from song
song through image
the world through a lens
computer art
from the outside
submit a poem/email me
silken strands from the web

the expanding moth cloud so resembles a flower, each flying fragment of wing, antennae or spiky black leg whirling in formation to define each delicate petal forming a flower that blossoms and dies scattering moth dust to settle gently on the ground like leaves falling from a tree in autumn orange colours intense, intense like fire burning, burning moths, moths on fire, fire blazing, blazing like thoughts in the mind of a caterpillar. maybe caterpillars are the most intelligent of all.

and these are my thoughts, scattered on the screen like so much powdered moth.

love Papillon