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Molasses. Snail Trail. Potato.
I smile for times like these. Because I know that, while this potato was absentmindedly placed here some time ago, it has not been absentmindedly left here. Oh no. This is now its place - where it will be observed and enjoyed as it changes. And the snails who have graced it with their presence won't have even an inkling that they are a part of the special sort of art practiced by my Father.
© Elizabeth Fitt 2016. All rights reserved.
Image size: 23.5 Mpixels (67.4 MB uncompressed) - 3965x5939 pixels (13.2x19.8 in / 33.6x50.3 cm at 300 ppi)
Image keywords: dirt, dirty, ef images, eyes, filthy, glinting, growing, molasses, moldy, old, potato, red, rusty, silver, snail trail, sprouting, tin, trails, wrinkled
Published in: This Is My Father