Transformation: The Butterfly Portraits is a tribute to my mother, Lila Scherl, who always embraced change so gracefully.

How does one write a proper tribute for someone, especially their mother, father, spouse, dear friend, or anyone so dear to them? The layers upon layers of experiences, relationships, history and growth, trumphs, trials and tribulations seem impossible to capture in a tribute. I’d like to share with you a vignette of my relationship with my mother. A couple of days after our mother had passed away, I was scurrying around making arrangements for her funeral. I asked my sister if she’d like to have a cup of coffee with me. She had a very short window since she was working but we met at French Roast, a place on the upper westside in New York City, which I had frequented for years and which had became my mother’s favorite place to dine especially during the pandemic , once she had been vaccinated. The manager, hosts and waiters knew my mother and would engage with her and even ensure that she got her corner table in the semi outdoor restaurant area. The semi-outdoor dining space had plexiglass dividers as well as heaters and lights above the tables.. Lila would order their brioche French toast with three berry compote and lemon iced tea. I noticed it had become hard for my mother to see and to keep food on her fork, but I’d cut the French toast into quarters and let my mother know that it was perfectly fine to use her hand and dip her French toast into the three-berry compote or the syrup. The entire process had become pure joy for my mother. We’d talk and talk….we’d discuss the news, we’d line up her calendar so that she always had something to look forward to –in the vein of her own philosophy.

My sister and I finished our coffee and Ellen had to get back to work. I decided to have a second cup of coffee and took out a pen and paper to help me gather my thoughts. At one point, I looked across my table and wondered what my dear mom would say to me  at that particular moment, when I was feeling her absence so intensely and trying so hard to accept the finality of her passing. I breathed very deeply a few times and imagined –she would have said in her very strong voice, ‘keep pushing forward.’ I felt her positive and forceful energy all around me. The absence I had initially felt, on that day, felt like a strong presence –her presence.

Each image is a limited edition of ten, 8” Square boards of Encaustic –photographs output on inkjet or Japanese Kozo paper, mounted on board and then layered with encaustic, pastels and oils. No two images are exactly alike.