Sculptural Art of Butterflies 'Inspired by Nature'
- Sep 4
- 3 min read
Updated: 6 hours ago
JOURNAL
A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies
Inspired by Nature
Each butterfly in this collection began somewhere different. Some took their colours from the Cape landscape, the soft browns and blush of the fynbos, the fresh greens of willow trees, the muted tones of forests and coastlines. Others began with a memory, a place or a person.
The Red Admiral, Vanessa atalanta, belongs to the genus Vanessa, which immediately gave this particular artwork its name. It also happens to share its name with my best friend, making the connection feel almost suspiciously perfect, as though the butterfly had arrived with her own label attached. When Vee and I were young and wonderfully wild, the night never really ended when everyone went home.
Somewhere in the early hours of the morning we'd inevitably find ourselves perched on my parents' kitchen counter, still in yesterday's clothes, decompressing over toast, thick slices of cheddar and an entirely unreasonable amount of Wellington's Sweet Chilli Sauce. Those were the conversations that mattered most. The sort that only seem to happen after midnight, when life feels both wonderfully complicated and entirely possible.
We spoke about everything we'd do one day, the people we'd become, the adventures waiting just around the corner. Looking back now, I suspect we were quietly building one another long before either of us realised it. Life, of course, had other plans… We grew up. We fell in love, built careers, I became a mother, Vee a godmother, and found ourselves living lives that those two girls on the kitchen counter could never really have imagined. And somewhere along the way, Vee moved to England.
The distance changed the shape of our friendship, but strangely, never the friendship itself. There have been years when we've seen far too little of one another, yet when we're together there is none of that awkward catching up. We simply pick up the conversation where we left it.
Which is perhaps why discovering the story of the Red Admiral felt so wonderfully apt.
The Red Admiral is a traveller. These extraordinary little butterflies undertake seasonal migrations, following favourable conditions across vast distances. They move when the seasons tell them it is time, finding their way somewhere new before the journey begins again.
There was something about that which felt incredibly familiar.
Because perhaps the friendships that last are a little like that too. They aren't held together by living in the same place, following the same path or speaking every day. They survive different countries, marriages, children, careers, loss, reinvention and all the unexpected places life carries us. We can travel in completely different directions and somehow remain part of the same story.
And perhaps that is what I love most about this entire collection. From butterflies inspired by the landscape around me to one inspired, quite unexpectedly, by a friendship that has travelled through most of my life, each one carries a little story in its wings.
They are all cut and sculpted by hand, each slightly different from the next, gathered together in their frames like tiny specimens of places, people and moments worth keeping.
And the 'Red Admiral'? She will always be a little nod to my Vee. To the girl who sat beside me on a kitchen counter all those years ago, eating cheese and sweet chilli sauce at an ungodly hour, completely convinced that the best parts of our lives were still ahead of us.
We weren't wrong. They just didn't look quite the way we imagined. Some people, it turns out, simply keep travelling with you.
The heart behind
my business
Hunter & Snow is a return to something more personal, a slower, more considered way of creating and living. For years, my work was rooted in building brands. Understanding people, shaping ideas, and bringing vision to life. But over time, I found myself drawn back to something quieter.
It started in small ways, making with my hands, rearranging my home, collecting meaningful pieces, writing again. Letting creativity unfold without pressure, guided by instinct. At my core, I am a creative, and it feels like a life force, something I feel compelled to share and encourage in others.
Hunter & Snow is an extension of that. A place for thoughtfully made pieces, shaped by everyday living, seasonality, and the quiet beauty of a home that evolves over time. A space to share what I’ve learnt, in the hope that it invites a slower, more personal way of living.