Here, Carpenter Bee is an Architect

The bee is seen from directly above and takes almost the whole panel. Its wings are the argument: irregular cells of gold leaf, slate blue, cream and black, each separately outlined, closer to leaded glass than to entomology. The thorax is a dark faceted dome, the abdomen banded, two fine antennae running off into bare ground. The detail worth crossing the room for is the shadow — beneath the body Freda has laid a dense passage of graphite that resolves, at close range, into handwriting. Her notes on the carpenter bee are literally what the insect casts. Architect is not a metaphor here: the bee bores to build, and she has given it a drawn structure to match.