"Every artist was at first an amateur." — Anonymous

I think it was Harry Truman who observed that "some people don’t see the light until they feel the heat!" Well, for me it’s been a hot, yet illuminating summer. Having been the recipient of some "heat" regarding predator-related education efforts (i.e., Predators in the Classroom for youngsters and Predator Appreciation Days for adults), I savor cooler mornings to afford me the opportunity to ruminate on the art of predator politics.

Speaking of the finer arts, my mind wanders back to 1975 when I was enrolled in 2112 Art Appreciation at Southwestern Oklahoma State University. Now, art never was my bag, but it seems that every undergraduate was required to complete at least four credits in such. For me, it was Elements of Art, and Art Appreciation. Funny thing about courses you think will never have any impact on your life at the moment; sometimes there’s just a 20-year lag time.

It struck me that coyotes (and other predators) are like abstract art: different people can look at the same thing, yet see something entirely different. Consider these tenets in art: (a) truly, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder; (b) everyone's a critic; and (c) surrealism sometimes permeates the image. Perhaps Vincent Van Gogh and Salvadore Dali would have been good speakers at a Predator Appreciation Day, or spokesmen for conflict resolution. In deference to their cryptic contributions to predator ecology, maybe I should cut off a piece of my ear!

West Texas ranchers don't have much of an appreciation for abstract art. Oh, they love Remington and Russell, with whom they can relate. But somehow I don’t think you’ll find many Van Goghs or Dalis hanging above their fireplaces. Just as Russells are more rural, and Gougins are more urban, so are views about the relative and absolute merits of predators.

Whose opinion is "right?" Would you expect different reviews if the gallery was comprised of readers of the Livestock Weekly as opposed to Texas Monthly? As the scribbling on a bathroom stall in Grape Creek, Texas muses, "where you stand on an issue usually depends upon where you sit."

Symmetry, composition, perspective, shading and balance are important concepts in art, and in predator politics as well. I’ve always agreed with the notion that until you understand your opponents’ viewpoints, you cannot successfully defend your own.

Back in 1995, I chaired a committee that hosted Coyotes in the Southwest, a symposium featuring the good, the bad and the ugly about Canis latrans. One session on "predator politics" featured a trio of masters who had dabbed their brushes in many a political predator pallette: former Senator Bill Sims; Dr. Dede Armentrout of the Audubon Society; and Dr. Milo Shult, formerly associate director of the Texas Agricultural Extension Service.

"Every person that I meet is in some way my superior, and if I will listen to him, I can learn from him." — Benjamin Franklin

And "him" is gender-neutral in this case. Let me briefly depict what each of these three artists imparted to me about the art of predator appreciation.

Senator Bill Sims is a modern-day Will Rogers, and Will Rogers is one of my main heroes. Always quick with his sharp wit, he could put an urbanite on the defensive with his Norman Rockwell depictions of predator experiences. He knew that humor was a powerful ally when in such debates, and he brushed it on adeptly.

Dr. Dede Armentrout was a clever debater, not unlike a crafty coyote herself. I’ve seen her parry Senator Sims’ attacks and counter with a few thought-provoking thrusts of her own. I remember two of her observations from the coyote symposium as they related to various studies documenting losses of livestock to coyotes: (1) data collection is political, and (2) data interpretation is political. These observations should be moot if the data’s collection and interpretation were objective and based on sound science. After this summer however, I propose to you a new definition for "sound science." If the science "sounds" like it’s going to support your side of the argument, then it’s sound science; if not, then it’s simply somebody’s theory. In other words, where you stand on an issue usually depends upon where you sit.

Dr. Milo Shult warned me back in 1991 that not everyone would "appreciate" the concept of "Predator Appreciation Days". I maintained that "appreciate" included the ability to "judge with heightened perception," or "to be cautiously or sensitively aware of," i.e., someone who "appreciates" the fact that different people may perceive predators differently. He argued that to some west Texans, "appreciation" and "predator" were like oil and water.

I sought to disprove Dr. Shult’s admonition, and thought that I had until this past May. It took six years, 12 PADs and some 2300 ranchers later, but sure enough, Milo was right.

Besides just learning how to draw pears, cylinders and saucers, Art Appreciation 2112 has revealed some other commonalities between pottery and people in the last 20 years. As O.H. Smith, a former colleague of mine from Cordell, Okla., once confided, "there's only two things that cannot be molded: dry dung and rotten wood." Well put ... may we strive to always be either reconstitutable dung or sound wood. People’s opinions on predators are often deep-seated, and the minds of those at either end of the continuum are not likely to be swayed.

This past summer, I convened a workshop for school teachers in Alpine. Our subject was the maligned Predators in the Classroom curriculum. As I often do nowadays, I assembled a list of "Silver Bullets" (inspirational quotations) and assigned one to each student in the workshop. Somebody’s was Malcom Forbes' notion that "the role of education is to replace an empty mind with an open one." Another’s maintained that "education is a lifelong process." And then there was Will Rogers’ admissions that "All I know is just what I read in the newspapers, and that’s an alibi for my ignorance," and "people's opinions are changed through observation and not through argument." Finally, there was Derek Bok’s notion that "if you think education is expensive, try ignorance."

But the foundation for the workshop, as with all my efforts in predator-related education, was built upon lessons learned in Art Appreciation 2112, i.e., balance, composition, symmetry, and shading, and that beauty varies with perspective — elements of art that are at work as much on the floor of the legislature or the shearing barn floor as they are on the artist's canvas.

Like any artist, I like to stand back and admire my works from time to time. Some are criticized, some are praised, some enjoy both rave reviews and vitriolic venom simultaneously. And like every artist, it is imperfection in the present work that compels you to assault the canvas again and brave the critics’ inevitable scorn in search of that elusive masterpiece.

Hmmm, I wonder how a Mesquite Appreciation Day would go over?