Butterflies and hacks.

     The other day, The New York Times ran a piece about two naturalists, Henry Walker Bates and Fritz Muller, whose ideas have led to surprising insights into how evolution works ("Solving the Puzzles of Mimicry in Nature", March 12). Much of their research concerns butterflies. I learned that no group of animals have contributed more to the science than butterflies. Who knew?
     In particular, Bates noticed a species whose bright wing patterns closely resembled other butterfly families in the area. Actually, this species mimics other butterflies – it's what they do to avert prey, because, apparently, to a hungry bird or lizard, these mimicked butterflies look about as appetizing as jellied moose nose.
     So, I get it: Rather than risk having a beauty all your own, they choose to blend in with those who have worked hard to be safe from extinction. Smart little flutterers. I know some creative people like that.
     The other night I saw a spot on TV that anyone would have sworn was the latest work from Barton Graf. Unfortunately, it wasn't quite as funny or absurd. A quick search on my iPad informed me that, sure enough, it was created by a mimicker.

     It's the age-old dilemma: Risk rejection and the possibility that a client or boss will have you for lunch for exploring new worlds, or, court acceptance by doing what's already been accepted. Make work that resembles art. Or make art.
     It's funny but in the article, the mimicking butterflies were not even mentioned by name. It's as if they didn't matter enough. It's as if someone thought, "Why give their name if they're not worth remembering?" I mean, we all know what a Monarch butterfly looks like for a reason – it has a singular beauty.
     Make work that is forgettable. Or make art.
     Anyway, the article goes on to say that Muller discovered some other butterflies that were already unpalatable but still mimicked other beauties. Why would a butterfly do that? Well, if there isn't a name for Muller's family of mimickers, I have a suggestion: Coppius Catticus. It's got a nice familiar ring to it.