It’s strange when you realize the Internet is old enough to cause nostalgia. I won’t bore you with my reminisces, but I’ll admit to a Geocities home page I had that briefly included (as I was learning HTML basics) a blinking yellow and black diagonal “Under Construction” sign.

In this dial-up recall, that “Under Construction” sign was a declaration of my new-to-the-net status. It’s an enduring piece of early Internet history, and even a testament to the animated GIF’s democratic viral.

Today, the animated GIF is still alive in cyberspace; being used as a quick visual status update, as an insider-to-insider type of shorthand, and are being collected and shared among enthusiasts.

Scroll through comment threads, and you’ll catch postings augmented by mini-cinematic loops of pop culture: That Jersey Shore Snooki punch, the bared fangs of a True Blood vamp. There are even online communities devoted to collecting animated GIFs, and honouring those who make them.

Indeed, this web relic’s re-discovery owes much to the net artists who’ve made these small graphic file formats an artistic medium in itself, says Canadian writer and artist Sally McKay.

“Artists who use technology are very interested in older technologies and pushing them beyond commercial and mainstream use,” explains McKay of the current “retro” appeal. “It’s that real involvement of the medium in a very direct way, (since) it’s so easy to access, share and upload.”

The former co-owner and editor of influential Toronto art magazine Lola, McKay recently published an essay analyzing animated GIFs on Art&Education, a contemporary art website launched last summer by Artforum.

Canadian artist Lorna Mills, who shares an art blog called Digital Media Tree with McKay, is quick to dismiss any “sentimental aspects” to the GIFs she creates from her own and found videos.

The visual artist and flash game programmer — who is developing video for mobile delivery on iPhone and PSP, amongst other platforms — says her remixing of nature broadcasts and Hollywood movie footage as a deliberate “repurposing” of mainstream images.

“It’s sort of like an art of participation that illuminates to me how I define myself as an artist,” Mills writes via e-mail. “Making images amongst many many image producers that don’t position themselves as artists, yet (still) manage to engage me fully with their creations.”