Explicit and close up photographs of plant sexual organs. Steamy! Inspired by and old favourite, Pollen by Jeff Noon.
“There shall be in that rich dust a richer dust concealed”
Over the past bank holiday weekend, I’ve been running DIY/Kitchen Microbiology workshops for Strange Science at the wonderful Eden Project. In a few spare moments that I had, I gathered a ubiquitous grey dust that I found in forgotten corners of The Core building, and examined it under the microscope setup that I had brought with me for the workshops.
The microscope revealed the grey and fragile dust clots to be incredibly complex tangles of textile microfibers (and occasional human hairs), that had silently shed off the clothing of the site’s millions of visitors, and then collected in undusted corners. Not all, but many of these microfibers, will be filaments made of synthetic and petroleum-based materials such as polyester and nylon that are woven together into our fabrics, and as such they represent an insidious form of plastic pollution. The Eden Project is remarkable and important, and takes huge efforts to reduce its impact on the environment, but this demonstrates that how, sometimes despite our best efforts and intentions, we can inadvertently pollute our environments.
The finding of this plastic rich dust at the Eden Project is not of huge environmental issue here, but it does highlight a much more significant environmental concern. When we launder the same clothes that we wore at the Eden Project, the same synthetic microfibres will be released in their thousands, to go down the drain to the sewage treatment plant, and then to finally end up in natural bodies of water. This type of microplastic has been found in all environments examined so far, and laboratory studies have shown it to be environmentally persistent and to have physical and chemical impacts on marine organisms.
My microbiome, that is the billions of bacteria that live on and in my body, in terms of cell number outweigh my own population of human cells 10 to 1. Given this numerical superiority, I felt it only fair that they get a say in deciding my vote in the upcoming general election. And so, building upon a process first suggested by Poulomi Desai, I mixed my microbiome with the candidates and asked them to vote. Obviously, they are not able to tick a box, and so I “asked” the bacteria of my microbiome to move towards, and grow on the candidate of their choice. The results are just in!
As a PhD student in the 1980s, part of my research project was to clone the genes that encoded the light producing machinery from naturally occurring bioluminescent bacteria, into more familiar bacteria like E.coli, and Staphylococcus aureus, where the light that these now produced as a consequence of my genetic interventions could be used to measure gene expression and viability. I would often spend hours in a darkroom, waiting for my eyes to become more sensitive in the dark, and then looking for the tell tale blue-green glow to tell me that my cloning experiments had worked. I’ve been beguiled by this unique biological light ever since, and have used it in my teaching to engage microbiology students. Quite often I’ve also taken this phenomenon outside the laboratory in order to share its wonder with the public. My latest bioluminescent adventure is with artist Anna Dumitru, and will be an installation based on the bioluminescent bacterium Photobacterium phosphoreum HB, and will feature at the Wellcome Trust’s On Light event running from 1st to 4th May.