Early off-moods can storm and swell into crashingly off-days, the black butterfly wings of a tiny bruise on the morning causing coma by sunset.

So paint the butterfly bright metallic sapphire blue. After the blue dries, dip the butterfly in silver. Then handle it, gently but all over, sealing your fingerprints in the paint, making the blue show through the silver where your prints and whorls create patterns owned only by you.

Now take that butterfly and throw it back into the Congo, let it flap flap flap away. This way, if a storm comes, you can lay claim to its power.

One can not control chaos - the idea is contradictory - but one can control how big an umbrella they carry, and how much they wish for lightning to fall from the sky in dazzling and deadly blue and silver whorls.

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