The Rosy Maple is a gorgeous moth; I've only seen one twice. Short of planting more maple trees, their home of choice, I found myself wondering if there is a way of attracting more of them to our property. I speculated about whether they might be collected somehow and relocated, or lured here by creating an ideal habitat, drawing them from far and wide. This led to an image of a girl named Rose who sings Irish folk songs and flits through sun-dappled woods collecting moths in her hair, bringing them back home where the moths live out their brief lives in the world's largest community of Rosy Maples. Images for much of my work come from these free-association kinds of meandering thoughts. Yet, the better narratives are, by far, the ones others construct when they view the work, having no clue as to the story behind the image's conception.