The Nurdle Project: Bottling the Consequences

The drawings are finished. The oracle cards are complete. And now the strangest part of the project has begun. I've been making potions.

Or, at least, my version of them.

Welcome to the Apothecary of Consequences

When I first began thinking about how I wanted this project to exist physically, I kept coming back to the idea of an old apothecary.

Shelves of strange bottles. Handwritten labels. Specimens and ingredients. Things that look as though they have been sitting untouched for decades. It seemed like the perfect visual language for a project about plastic pollution. So, I've been creating my own rather peculiar collection of bottled consequences.

Each bottle has its own story and its own contents, carefully chosen to relate to the ideas explored throughout the project.Some of the materials are natural. Some are found. And some are unmistakably plastic.

Together, they create a collection that is part science cabinet, part apothecary and part cautionary tale.

Choosing the bottles

I've become slightly obsessed with bottles during this project. The shape of a bottle can completely change the feeling of what is inside it. An ordinary container can look completely different once it has a special label and is surrounded by the right objects.

I've deliberately chosen antique bottles that feel as though they might have belonged somewhere much older. Some have unusual shapes. Some have beautiful imperfections. One even has a rather wonderfully pirate-like quality to it. They each have their own personality.

And, just like the oracle cards, I want the viewer to be curious enough to look closer.

What is inside?

This has probably been one of the most enjoyable parts of the whole project and one of the few times my studio has ended up extra messy as I have got carried away with creating. I've been experimenting with how I can represent ideas rather than simply displaying piles of plastic.

A bottle can become a specimen. A handful of tiny pieces can become an ingredient. Something from the seashore can suddenly look like evidence. The objects are deliberately presented with the visual language of something precious and carefully preserved.

Because that contrast is the point.

We have created materials that are incredibly persistent, yet often treat them as disposable. We make them. We use them. We throw them away.

And then they don't really go away at all.

Labels, names and warnings

I've also been creating labels for each bottle, giving the collection its own fictional language.

The labels make the bottles feel as though they belong to a real apothecary — a place where someone has catalogued these strange substances and recorded their effects. But underneath the old-fashioned aesthetic is something very modern.

These aren't magical potions. They are the consequences of things we have already done. And perhaps that is the strangest potion of all.

Almost ready...

Seeing everything together for the first time has been a wonderful moment.

The six oracle cards.

The bottles.

The labels.

The strange little specimens.

All of these separate pieces that have been living on my studio table are finally beginning to look like one coherent body of work.

There is something slightly surreal about packing it all up now. For weeks, it has existed in my studio. I've moved things around. Changed my mind. Redrawn things. Repainted things. Found new objects. Changed labels.

And now it is time to let it leave the studio. The next time I share this project, it won't be on my work table. It will be at the exhibition.

The Apothecary of Consequences is almost ready to be seen.

And I can't wait to see what it looks like when all the pieces finally come together.