Midnight in a field that doesn't exist on any map. One massive Amanita front and center, the moon watching with sleepy-lidded eyes, the sky a deep embroidered purple, every surface stitched and textured like a fever dream someone decided to frame. The moon in the upper right corner has a face — gold, heavy-lidded, lips painted red — and she is utterly unbothered by what's happening below her. Companion piece to Mycology Yourcology.
