Information:

Painted in 2024, later assigned Design index number 017 for the studio records, titled the Monarch Butterfly Mandala.

Photoshop and Wacom Cintiq/Stylus

Artist Statement

The Monarch Butterfly Mandala carries the physical record of personal survival and generational return. Begun prior to my own stroke and set aside during my father’s final decline with Lewy body dementia, the work was completed only after I had crossed that threshold of illness and recovery. The layered, ghosted secondary mandala impressions visible in the outer rings hold the actual temporal weight of that interruption, functioning as strata of accumulated time rather than clean decorative motifs.

The palette moves across deep forest greens, twilight indigos, and saturated amber-oranges, echoing the monarch’s seasonal migration to Mexico in time for Día de los Muertos, where its arrival marks the return of departed souls. Balancing natural fragility against cross-generational endurance, the composition treats the chrysalis not as an easy metaphor for change, but as a severe site of dissolution and reassembly. It stands as an intentional visual instrument for enduring the difficult middle passages of transformation.

Studio Notes for the Catalog

Some paintings refuse to be finished on a predictable schedule.

I began the Monarch Butterfly Mandala in a very different season of life. Work halted abruptly when my father entered the final, harrowing stages of Lewy body dementia, demanding my full attention, even though Covid and extended unemployment kept me from joining the family by his side. Soon after dad’s death, my own life stopped when I suffered a stroke.

For months, the unfinished digital canvas sat untouched on a drive while I relearned my own body, weathered the terror of sudden physical vulnerability, and grieved my father’s passing. When I finally returned to the Cintiq, I realized I could not simply wipe the slate clean and produce an immaculate, polished geometric piece. The time lost had to become part of the structure.

I built transparent, secondary mandala impressions directly into the outer rings of the design. They read like visual echoes or geological strata, recording the pause, the grief, and the quiet labor of coming back from the edge.

The monarch butterfly was the only subject capable of holding that weight. It completes a multi-generational migration from northern North America deep into the oyamel fir forests of central Mexico, arriving precisely when families gather for Día de los Muertos to welcome the spirits of their ancestors. No single butterfly completes the entire round trip; it requires successive generations to carry the journey forward through an increasingly precarious environment.

In the painting, sharp cadmium oranges burn against forest greens, twilight violets, and deep midnight accents. The piece does not offer a sentimental celebration of flight. It honors the persistence of generational character, the inheritance of strength and commitment to some larger cosmic familial ideal. It remains a personal testament that true survival is an act of patient, multi-layered return, and the willingness to play our part in movements that transcend individual lifetimes.