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With the help of communal workers, this cellulose-gnawed mural was created. A few dabs of acrylic, and the meandering vision of termites becomes apparent. The naturalistic largess and planetary permutations are undeniable, as well as the double entendre placement of the fossilized clear-cut stump in the foreground; we are all termites, maybe.
When I pulled the sheet of plywood, from the dirt floor, on the wet coast of Oregon, I was not too happy. Damp wood termites had made a mockery of my remodeling, probably with a few carpenter ants leading the way.
Only later did I discover metamorphic meaning in the artistic rendering of these collectively consuming creatures, but by then, in spite of the socialistic success of their engraved imagery, and harmonious flow of their co-opted highways, it was too late. The artists had to go: every last socialist soul. After all, this is America.
If I am correct, termites are socialists (although royal socialists), since there is a centralized government represented by a queen, whereas in a communist society, there is no centralized government; property is owned collectively, and labor organized for the common good of all members.
And there we have it: bug art for a higher cause.
