Below are images of discarded pulp, reminants from the olive press.

The morning frost, and growing mould clings, cracks; engaging textured shapes on the surface.

Images, left over impressions of what took place.

Puddles of mush, sculpted, nourishing the soil.

From where it came is where it returns.

The notion of ashes to ashes.

There is art that comes from exploring one thing.

Investigating its manifestations to something that was never thought of, nor realised.

Until you understand what it was and then see what it has become.

And no longer recognise it.

PULP- A work of art

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