exploding moths
a web page

"courage mon ami, le diable est mort"

"I only ask to be free, the butterflies are free"

charles dickens

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thoughts through song
image from song
song through image
the world through a lens
computer art
from the outside
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silken strands from the web



the expanding moth cloud so resembles a flower, each flying fragment of wing, antennae or spiky black leg whirling in formation to define each delicate petal forming a flower that blossoms and dies scattering moth dust to settle gently on the ground like leaves falling from a tree in autumn orange colours intense, intense like fire burning, burning moths, moths on fire, fire blazing, blazing like thoughts in the mind of a caterpillar. maybe caterpillars are the most intelligent of all.

and these are my thoughts, scattered on the screen like so much powdered moth.

love Papillon