How appropriate.
Butterflies are brought up several times by either Hisao or Rin herself during her path, and I find the underlying analogy between their lives and Rin’s journey to be an interesting thing to muse over.
Accused of being a shallow and thoughtless person (which I don’t necessarily agree with, but I digress), Rin proves them right, somewhat, by only ever thinking of butterflies in their final form aloud, or, in other words, the last stage of their metamorphosis, adulthood. She’s concerned only with the splendor of their transformation’s end result, paying no mind to the means to an end, which is akin to her desire to be understood, and the journey she takes to get there. She knows not where exactly to go from here, like a larva roving about the earth for a suitable place to enclose itself in its cocoon, but she knows she wants to change, no matter how terrifying the idea of doing so may be.
Lonely, Rin paints the fantastical pictures in her heart, and her soul ends up on every canvas that she alters from a blank white void, seeking to be understood. Similarly, the bodies of caterpillars are painted in various bright and oftentimes brilliant colours, perhaps seeking to wear their hearts upon their… skin…? Sadly, Rin’s paintings can be enigmatic and frightening at times, and the colours and markings caterpillars display are merely a defense mechanism to frighten predators into believing they may be poisonous, or at the very least, unsafe for consumption.
Inherently charismatic as she is, Rin ultimately can’t seem to find friends, or even find herself; she means no harm, but is perceived as an eccentric, crass individual regardless, and others avoid her because of it. Likewise, for every one person who finds a caterpillar beautiful, there are two who would ostracize them for being repulsive, hirsute creatures that leave nothing but the eaten out holes of leaves in their wake. (Admittedly, while I don’t have entomophobia, I don’t like caterpillars much, myself.)
Then, Rin meets Hisao, and begins to undergo her own chrysalis stage of sorts.
Well, of course not, silly. You aren't fully developed, yet! :'D
"For who...? Yourself...? Or for others? What if... I love you just the way you are?"
The turning point is when she begins to "destroy herself," which alluded to the symbolism of rebirth butterflies represent, what with emerging "new" beings from their cocoons and such.
Finally, someone could see her for who she really was, even if he couldn't understand her; Indeed, the little caterpillar had finally become a butterfly. Even so, did she ever really change at all? To paraphrase Rin, "Yes. No. Yes." What was important was that the world around her, her world (Planet Rin? lol), was altered. No longer was it a place where she would have to live alone in. The butterfly is simply what the caterpillar wanted you to see inside them. The person she was and always will be is still standing right in front of you, thanking you for accepting her.
For a zephyr to carry them away, dandelions must first shed the cowardice of yellow, in order to gain courage. For a caterpillar to fly, it must first be reborn. But for Rin to embrace herself, no arms were needed.
...
I’m not sure whether or not we’re also meant to draw a comparison between the pinned down butterfly specimens of modern art culture, and how they relate to Rin’s character as an artist, although I do find this interesting.
Incidentally, I apologize if this all sounded like unintelligible blathering; I wrote this after having been kept up all night sick with... well, I won't say it, but I think I feel better now. Maybe. Probably. It’s very hard to decide.
As a side note, I simply cannot get the mental image of Rin, snug in a sleeping bag (trying to be a caterpillar), munching a hole out of a leaf, out of my head.
