mad in pursuit notebook



Last night a big moth beat frantically at my window.

The desk in my studio is pushed up against the window. Lots of tiny moths flutter around, attracted by my desk lamp. But this one fat one -- just one -- has been coming by for more than a year now.

That can't be. Don't moths live only one short egg-laying season, then die -- like butterflies? Well, this one seemed to be gone for a while, then returned this week.

Last night I noticed that her eyes were glowing orange. Pinpoints of orange -- light reflected from my desk lamp.

Moths don't enjoy the butterfly's reputation for transformation and rebirth. They toil by night. While butterflies are happy to breeze from flower to flower, the moth bangs on my window trying to make it to the light. I think I'll call her Ambition.


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