More artwork on my blog.

Fall is coming I
Fall is coming II
Fall is coming III

Butterfly:
What's your name?

Bird:
I don't know.
What is the use of a name when you are its only recipient?
What are you doing in a net?

Butterfly:
What are you doing in a nest?
I've been caught in a spider’s web... would you help me please?

Bird:
Well, I could save your life... But I could save the spider's life as well. You must be the last living insect of the season.

Butterfly:
Yes, but I don't want to be eaten alive...

Bird:
Of course, but you will not survive through the winter anyway.

Butterfly:
Probably. However, I've got the wings you don't have.

Bird:
You should not boast about it... One from your species can only live through a single winter, protected by the warmth of its cocoon. Your wings are your freedom. However, they doom you to death, because you can’t go back to your earlier state.

You are trapped in death's net.

Butterfly:
You are trapped in life's nest.

Bird:
Yea...life is not absolute, neither is death. I'm prisoner of the place I was born ... too late.
I might not live.

Butterfly:
I might not die.

Bird:
I could save you... although it would be an even deeper sorrow to watch you fly away as I wait for my last hour.

Could we merely just accept and share our death?

www.pierrebourgeault.com