I can't remember the name of the species, but it has a striking yellow tonal colouration which was the reason I bought it from a flea market in Antwerp, Belgium. I'm not sure if it had a previous owner - the frame looks new. But it is the idea of having this transient object [because it used to fly] trapped in time that always makes me wonder about death. It is symbolic of a moment in my life, and symbolic of the fact that time is precious. I also have a collection of pressed flowers. This is a similar feeling, the transience of life trapped in a certain moment, forever there until it no longer exists and I no longer exist [because only I or the people I shared them with would ever remember]. This I associate with my Grandma because it was her who started me off pressing flowers. I associate the pressed flowers with my Grandma - she would always take clippings, and she had this press which my Grandad threw away. I not have little sketchbooks, and actual books, a necklace and a box containing pressed and dried flowers. I feel like they are a memory of my childhood with her, and my adulthood as I've grown up and kept these flowers. The butterfly specimen I associate with my own past, present and future. The transience of it reminds me to live life to the full as suddenly it could be over.
Object suggested by Stephanie Steele.