I’m in a kind of mood to pull the wings off a butterfly. It happens when I resist the world, the way it is.

My body, with its ompaired immune system reacts quite badly to sudden drops in barometric pressure. One’s body and the world are not-two, are one, from one important angle. So, today’s weather is tough; that is, if I’m wanting it to be some other way. I get grumpy.

How about I make it a ‘dragonfly,’ not a ‘butterfly’? When I was a boy in these mountains, dragonflies fascinated me, with their dancing colours. I’d like to paint one.

There’s a story about haiku master Baasho and his student Kikaku. He must have seen a red dragonfly. He imagined it like a pepper with wings, so he wrote this poem, and presented it to Basho:

pulling the wings off
a dragon-fly:
red pepper.

Basho, gentle as ever, wrote back:

adding wings
to the red pepper:
a dragon-fly.

They both see the dragon-fly.  But Basho’s reminder  helps me. Now, I say, “Come, let’s paint today, World!”