Have you ever been reading a book that creeps into your every day?
Such is The Bees by Laline Paull.
And I'm not entirely sure why it's scraping at my consciousness? But it surely is. And now I have bees on the brain. Maybe because I've always thought of bees as a rather benevolent insect. Helping mankind, stinging only when necessary, pollinating our food, if bees die, we die.
SAVE THE BEES.
The book focuses singularly on honey bees calling all OTHER insects The Myriad, mostly dangerous to their hive, in particular, wasps. And spiders?!? Oh. I don't know, that they've been anthropomorphized into a caste system so like our own has made me sad? unsettled? even cranky? (why does every.freakin.thing need to reflect US?!?) I guess, maybe, I just don't need another reminder of what an utter failure humanity is right now. *sigh*
But I digress.
As is often the case, I use art to make sense of what's going on in this giant, whirling dervish of a monkey brain of mine, so I've been printing illustrations of bees and drawing bees and gel printing bees and adding bees to other papers. Bees. Bees. Bees.
And per usual, I have no idea where this is headed. But. I just primed to larger canvasses/boards so maybe BIG bees?!? Stay tuned.