Caterpillar House

Box turtle shell, Monarch butterfly, oak, hornbeam, basswood, axe handle, mazegill mushrooms, oakmoss, copper, paper, epoxy clay, acid-free glues, epoxy, cotton string, rechargeable battery pack, led light, wire, switch, capacitor, acrylic paint, oil paint.

53”h 16”w 33”d

2024

This piece speaks to the feeling of being trapped in a situation, or perception, that once offered comfort, but over time became a prison. The artwork comes with a story— the tiny house made from a turtle shell was once the perfect home for a caterpillar, but one day the caterpillar woke up as a butterfly and the house felt all wrong. The home was too small, and the butterfly’s new body seemed to ask for the wind. Now they want nothing more than to leave but they can no longer fit out the door without major discomfort, having then to face the dangers of the outside world. Leaving certainly means they will not be able to go back inside again, but we want them to take that chance, don’t we? 

I found the turtle shell while on a walk in the woods and it had a little broken piece missing from the bottom that seemed to want to become a doorway. While researching turtles, I found an article about the commensal relationship between butterflies and turtles, where butterflies drink the “tears” of turtles for certain minerals, while the turtles allow them to drink without any noticeable benefit for themselves. 

In this piece I expanded on the idea of tear drinking to have the turtle’s body become a home for the children of those butterflies. This brings up ideas of generational wisdom, and how the specific needs of individuals within the constantly shifting world we inhabit has to be regularly reevaluated. 

Many of us live inside of stories that don’t actually make sense or benefit us, both individually and as a society. Here, the butterfly has to take a risk to find that change, just like us.

Inside of the home is a tiny functioning lamp (operated by a hidden switch outside of the shell, a bookshelf full of books, a wood stove with a chimney, a love seat, an ottoman, a rug, a vase with a dead flower, a used coffee mug, two loose books, a table, and a Monarch butterfly. The scale was so small that the mug was shaped by using two retractable pencil leads as tools. 

The shell also mimics the form of a brain, offering the idea that sometimes a prison is a place and sometimes it’s a perception.