The quote is from “My Butterfly,” a poem by Robert Frost.
I used a bamboo dip pen and sumi ink for the outline; an ink brush and gansai (traditional mineral-based paint blocks) for the color. It was painted on a soft, absorbent washi card.
etegami, japan, folk art, valentine, hearts, butterfly, poetry, robert frost, washi, insect
I am a professional Japanese-to-English translator and an Etegami artist. Etegami is a traditional Japanese folk art that combines thoughtful words with simple images painted on washi paper.
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your art have such a joy feeling in it, it’s contageous :)
Beautifully rendered interpretation of your b/w butterfly debbie, I can see how the white dots might look like little hearts… your artistic style is fantastic, (i wanted to be able to paint like that), and the quote from Frost is perfect. Exquisite work :)
well done.I like it,and the poem.your English is excellent.the poem is hard for me to understand:)
My Butterfly
Thine emulous fond flowers are dead, too,
And the daft sun-assaulter, he
That frightened thee so oft, is fled or dead:
Saave only me
(Nor is it sad to thee!)
Save only me
There is none left to mourn thee in the fields.
The gray grass is scarce dappled with the snow;
Its two banks have not shut upon the river;
But it is long ago-
It seems forever-
Since first I saw thee glance,
WIth all thy dazzling other ones,
In airy dalliance,
Precipitate in love,
Tossed, tangled, whirled and whirled above,
Like a linp rose-wreath in a fairy dance.
When that was, the soft mist
Of my regret hung not on all the land,
And I was glad for thee,
And glad for me, I wist.
Thou didst not know, who tottered, wandering on high,
That fate had made thee for the pleasure of the wind,
With those great careless wings,
Nor yet did I.
And there were othe rthings:
It seemed God let thee flutter from his gentle clasp:
Then fearful he had let thee win
Too far beyond him to be gathered in,
Santched thee, o’ereager, with ungentle gasp.
Ah! I remember me
How once conspiracy was rife
Against my life-
The languor of it and the dreaming fond;
Surging, the grasses dizzied me of thought,
The breeze three odors brought,
And a gem-flower waved in a wand!
Then when I was distraught
And could not speak,
Sidelong, full on my cheek,
What should that reckless zephyr fling
But the wild touch of thy dye-dusty wing!
I found that wing broken today!
For thou art dead, I said,
And the strang birds say.
I found it with the withered leaves
Under the eaves
fantastic work, well done!!!!!
Lovely work
1 DAY 2011/03/22

Love it :-)
AWW SO WELL DONE!
your imigination flys!!! wonderful…
“08/22/2012”