In Attacked by Bees, the artist stages a humorous yet relatable scene. A lone figure flees across an orange tundra, arms raised in alarm as two comically oversized bees close in. The bees, nearly as large as the person, dominate the composition with their exaggerated wings and menacing stingers. Their scale is playful, but not entirely fantastical—anyone who has visited the North in summer knows the bugs are formidable. Insects like blackflies and mosquitoes can be relentless, with populations described as “clouds” that “torment both people and animals” (Condon, The Northern Copper Inuit, 1987, p. 102). Here, that lived experience becomes vivid and absurd, transformed into a moment of cartoon-like drama, perfectly balanced between fear and farce.