In Mexico, we have the Day of the Dead. My grandmother says on that day – it’s in November – dead ancestors come to visit us, brought on the wings of butterflies. When they leave they take the souls of the newly departed away with them.

Butterflies have been on my mind lately. This is from Wikipedia: “The Taoist philosopher Zhuangzi once had a dream of being a butterfly flying without care about humanity, however when he woke up and realized it was just a dream, he thought to himself, ‘Was I before a man who dreamt about being a butterfly, or am I now a butterfly who dreams about being a man?’”

I like that. Butterflies seem to be symbolic of many things, depending on where and when you’re from – a person’s soul, a portent of evil or conversely good luck, a symbol of love or loved ones coming to visit. Like anything, I suppose everyone takes away what they want.

Most common though, at least in popular culture as I know it, is it’s association with transformation. Madame Butterfly, David Bowie, Papillon, Silence of the Lambs (okay, that was a moth) – these are off the top of my head and I’m sure there are more.

So why the butterfly, Jess? Are you bringing evil upon us or are you transforming into something? What’s the skinny, girl?

Anyone else have any thoughts?


%d bloggers like this: