Years ago, when my father was still alive, whenever I said something that seemed funny to him, he would say "your head is full of butterflies". Both of us would smile, and continue talking, sometimes agreeing to disagree. I wish he could see me now, see the butterflies starting to emerge from their cocoon and spread their wings. I hope a few of them will reach him, wherever he is and give him my everlasting love.
This is a collage I have just finished. Its title: "Her head is full of butterflies". To my dad with love.