Butterfly People

I never know what to think when artists come to visit. I get nervous because, in a sense, I wonder if this person is what I'm supposed to be, what I want to be. Today we had the best visitor and his name is Ross Wilson. He is this brilliant artist who sculpts and paints all for the sake of other people. He makes a point to never settle, to always be the very best he can, to not be afraid of failure or "no"s. It made me want to be good. I get intimidated so easily. I see people's photos they've taken, sketches they've drawn, bouquets they've assembled, or clothes they've made and I thrill and shrink all at once. Thrill because they made it and it's wonderful and beautiful and interesting; shrink because I'm afraid anything I shoot for will always turn out lumpy and useless.

My favorite piece he talked about was a mural entitled "The Man with the Butterfly Heart." The name alone is thrilling, isn't it? It is really and literally a man made of butterflys, all the way down to his heart. The caterpillar in us, the ugliness that is our heart and person by nature no longer has to be. The irreversable act of newness has made me a butterfly, made my heart a butterfly. Love that.

In all honesty, I could not tell you now what I will be when I grow up because I do not know. I may go to grad school when I get out for Art Curation or English. I may teach kindergarten and design a little until I save up enough for grad school. I may try to be a photgrapher and flower shop owner. I could live in any number of places and be none of the above. But I am a girl with a butterfly heart. I am made new, but He is by no means finished.

Praise Him.