Feeling Stuck? Chase Monarch Butterflies to Inspire a Personal Metamorphosis
Last year when I envisioned a tiny winged creature crossing the ocean for my second children's book, my next thought was: is this even possible? During my research, I didn't expect to become so smitten with a singular species. It has been a real treat to get to know the Danaus plexippus, more famously known as the monarch butterfly. Those who have studied monarchs for years already know what an absolute miracle they are. As I studied the intricate wing patterns, behaviors, and history of the migratory orange mystery, something within me started to shift. When I conceptualized illustrations for the children's book, I felt myself enter metamorphosis, as if to become a monarch myself. Over time, I couldn't help but contemplate humanity from a much different perspective, from the mind of a butterfly crossing the ocean — which they have accomplished more than once, by the way. Communities of monarch butterflies “island hopped” across the Pacific Ocean to Australia and New Zealand in the late 1800’s, and there have been rare sightings in the British Isles, Cornwall, and the Isles of Scilly. It was the rare 2012 sighting of a single monarch butterfly in Dorset, England near the Jurassic Coast which initially inspired the story of Lacey Lou and the Ocean Blue. As my research about this sighting progressed, the story took some unexpected twists and turns, which you’ll hear more about when the book is released.
On a Tuesday in November 2021 I set out on a random quest to find some music to complement a backcountry drive around Muskingum County, and stumbled across the album Sea Souls, by violinist and composer Anna Phoebe. Backcountry drives are wonderful for creative stimulation, especially when paired with music. Shortly into listening, I was in tears; the progression of each song almost perfectly followed the story of Lacey Lou the monarch crossing the ocean. I say "almost" because I hadn't yet completed the story, but Sea Souls sent me into deeper emotion and vision for the book's direction. It became the soundtrack for my brainstorming sessions, and eventually became the soundtrack for drawing, compositing, and painting the illustrations. I found myself sneaking off to bed early just to read more about monarchs, and the more I read the more I tweaked the story and illustrations.
Even after hundreds of years of studying monarch butterfly migrations, scientists still crave to know one thing: how do monarchs know where they're going? We would all love to know. Until then, we can continue to let ourselves become enamored with their best-kept-secret. To do whatever small things we can to help them along their journey. To plant native milkweeds for them to lay eggs on. To admire them for what they're capable of. To thank them for inspiring us to make difficult journeys ourselves.
In addition to writing the book and creating it’s illustrations, my time spent with monarch butterflies at various wildlife preserves in Ohio this summer was the very thing I needed to sink deeper into the woman I am becoming. Personal transformation is often accompanied by something on the outside that shows us who we are on the inside. To see ourselves for who we really are is perhaps the most important step to create change, but it is only the first step. For personal metamorphosis to occur we have to make the move, spread our wings, and cross oceans.
For more information on milkweed varieties and other plants the monarchs love, please visit this section on Prairie Nursery.