Art Work Details
Oil on canvas
40 x 28cm
Origins
2021
Butterfly is a meditation on memory, beginning with a fleeting moment when clouds illuminated by the evening sunset appeared to the artist like white butterflies drifting across the sky. Within the luminous pink, violet, and blue clouds, the familiar shape of a butterfly emerged, unexpectedly opening a passage between the present and a distant childhood memory. The vision recalls a day when Jennifer Lee, carried on her father’s shoulders, walked along a country road filled with blooming dandelions. There, she encountered a white butterfly for the first time. As it landed gently on her father’s head and slowly folded and unfolded its wings, she held her breath, afraid that the delicate creature might suddenly fly away. Years later, the butterfly seemed to return in another form, this time appearing within the clouds of an evening sky. Rather than illustrating the childhood memory directly, the painting explores the way memory can suddenly reappear through what we see in the present. The sunset clouds become a threshold between two moments in time, transforming an ordinary sky into a space where the image of a butterfly, the sound of her father’s whistling, and the sensation of the wind from long ago can quietly return. As part of the Origins series, Butterfly reflects Jennifer Lee’s continuing interest in the relationship between perception and memory. The butterfly exists somewhere between what is actually seen and what is remembered, suggesting that precious moments never completely disappear. They may remain hidden within us until a familiar shape, color, or light unexpectedly brings them back into view.
[Butterfly] I see a white butterfly now. That is definitely a butterfly. Through my half-closed eyes, avoiding the glare, I see them coming into view. They are surely a cluster of white butterflies. Long ago, my father carried me on his shoulders as we walked along a country road filled with blooming dandelions. That was the first time I saw a white butterfly. One flew over and landed on my father’s head. Amid the sound of my father’s whistling and the cool breeze brushing against my cheeks, the butterfly gently folded and unfolded its white wings. Captivated by its movement, I held my breath, afraid that it might fly away. Today, the butterfly has come to me again. The fear that it might disappear is the same now as it was then. 한글 번역