a selective memory

tobacco horn worm, speckled with fate

Florence's drawing

the husk of the host

In September we found a few tobacco horn worms on our tomato plants, and decided that we were willing to share our produce in exchange for the privilege of seeing the world at work in our front yard.  But the wonder and beauty turned macabre when two of the worms were parasitized by Braconid wasp larvae.  Our 4 year old was not prepared for this plot shift.  One morning soon after this discovery, I went over to see the drawing that Florence had been making.  She told me that she was making a drawing of the caterpillars so that she could remember them as they were before the wasps got to them.  I could hardly think of a better reason to make a picture.  In an academic context it is particularly easy to lose track of the fundamentals which would otherwise guide my creative action.  I am distracted by nuance.  To see things in a particular way, and to convey that vision–to drag a selective past into the present with insistence, relevance, and a joy clarified by sorrow– is something worth doing.