There’s a butterfly who clings to the girders under a walk bridge. It’s held there by weak adhesive that threatens to release this paper insect into the water below.
Most butterflies only live for a few weeks after climbing out of their cocoon. This one experienced a second metamorphosis after its carcass found its way to my studio where I pressed its body against hundreds of shipping labels. Each imprint casts a permanent shadow of its body on my stickers, like an x-ray.
I distribute these heat stencils in obscure locations. Most graffiti fights for attention in prominent public spots, but I prefer the less traveled path. I call it Infestation.
Spray painted graffiti promises to be permanent, but its lifespan isn’t much longer than a butterfly when it lands on walls patrolled by neighborhood watchdogs and HOA protection. And yet my paper insects manage to avoid scrutiny, hiding out in the open. Not many people pass this way — dog walkers, bird watchers, trail runners — the type of people whose curiosity might allow them to see beauty hiding in plain sight.
Two years of life under the Colorado sun, wind, and winter weather is a pretty good streak but today it has come to an end. I peal away the brittle wings and add the next infestation, a fresh sticker printed with the same butterfly that touched the paper of its predecessor. How long will this one survive? Perhaps it will remain unnoticed, like the flap of a wing that barely causes a stir.
Stay creative. Your friend,
Ade
I will be imagining your infestation the next time I run in the woods, even though I live 2,026 miles away from Colorado.
This takes Guerilla art to another level. Love the butterfly motif!