Bounty's got a black eye. I don't know what happened and she won't talk about it. She said her cryptic coloration abilities were affected. Are you talking about camouflage? She rolls her spotty eye at me. Just one, which is weird. I try to understand her fixation with survival but it eludes me. Before she jets away, I feel its an Eva Hesse kind of moment, where the path got wonky and the tough got tender. Smirk, Go on, she says. I got her attention! Okay, take Untitled (rope piece) for our Hesse moment. It was a departure from the experiments with fiberglass and polyester that gave her that brain tumor. Hesse loved the sensuality of material defects. She saw off beauty in all things. Her short life began in Germany fleeing the Nazis and ended in gracing the cover of Art Forum in May 1970.

Bounty has returned from Artic travels with Captain. Bounty wanted to know why homosapiens hide their wings. She asked, do your wings have wavelength interference like mine?  I didn't know where to begin.  I blurted out, wings are embarassing. So then I guess I hurt her feelings. To make her smile again, I showed her paintings by Hung Liu who uses old photographs of China to make potions of fact and fiction. Strange Fruit (2003), Chinese Prostitutes (1995), Goddess of Liberty (1989). A smirk, a giggle and she says, now Hung Liu knows how to throw off a monkey.

I had a new dream about the bounty that flees, the butter that takes flight, the bee that utters up and away, this time it wasn't about escape routes. This time it was a lesson on chance encounters. my friend Bounty goes by many names across the world. Some call her kind mariposa, papillons, babochka, teeternig, flutturi, milchdieb, skippers. She asked me how many names I had and if I liked any of them. I told her, not really. When I woke up I thought of the London artist Tracey Emin and her 1999 piece, Every Part of Me's Bleeding.