Bernice Taylor loved to fish for moths. She’d wait until just the right time of day – dusk was best – and set a sparkler alight. Sometimes it would take a little longer than others, but eventually, they arrived. She never wanted to keep them, after all, what would one do with a jarful of moths, but she loved to watch the dance in the glowing flame and then flutter off into the night once the light died out.

Artist notes: Sometimes the pen goes to paper without any idea of what's going to happen and slowly, after some intuitive, seemingly random lines, someone like Bernice emerges. Perhaps it was because I painted this at dusk with a dying light outside that the moths arrived?