My dream is to be a surface designer.
When I need to be inspired,
I find my way to the fabric store.
A polka dot pattern here, a plaid pattern there.
How stimulating to see a plethora of fabric arranged
into rolls and rolls of magnificence.
Sneaking into the backroom where the store keeps its
best odds and ends,
I gravitate towards the familiar, a butterfly.
Mariposa is a reflection of me,
my muse, my fan, my critic, my yin and yang.
She presents herself whenever creativity strikes,
never by command and always by surprise.
Stepping onto the unrolled canvas I fall through the
surface into yards and yards of oblivion onto a dark
wonderful world of floral.
Vines climbed onto every crevice.
Flowers of all shapes and sizes, all growing, glowing everywhere.
Stumbling onto a foulard of venus fly traps, I close my
eyes, curl into a tight ball and wish I could disappear.
I start to shrink, and shrink to the size of a dot.
Diminished to the molecular level inside the maze of a
plaid, plaid, plaid, plaid world.
The planes of grids and checkers shift and move,
bouncing one board to the next. I surrender, free falling—
Caught by Mariposa, The flaps of her wings propel me to the city.
Hissing sounds of aerosol cans open my eyes to a
pop of color here and a splash of polka dots there.
My studio space now covered in camouflage.
An adventure prompts me to settle in my chair.
Realizing a camouflage pattern has inspired me,
everything from my dream makes sense.
In spirit, Mariposa continues to flourish, guiding me
through the whimsical world of surface.
