Ecuador Sketch Book, Summer 2004

I may end up eventually providing contextual commentary for all of these, but for now only the last one interests me.

One night in the jungle I sat and watched this moth flitter about a candle for at least half an hour, on the edge of my seat, enthralled! The moth would soar into the flame, burn itself, fall, and repeat. It couldn't help itself! It just wanted that light so bad! For whatever reason this didn't strike me as an exercise in self destruction, but rather a display of indomitable will. The moth eventually became very battle ravaged, scorched black, covered in wax, and hardly able to fly. It did then aspire once more to the light, caught fire, and went out in a blaze of glory. For that one tiny moment the moth WAS the flame, and I thought it was pretty neat.