Small signs of the approaching dying-off of fall - the cheerful and life-affirming decay of which season can only be likened appropriately in my mind to the intoxicating + horrific stench of low-tide - keep straying into my path, my personal favorite thus far being a great ovoid mass, reaching a height midway to my knee, of bright orange mushrooms on someone's carefully manicured lawn: an orgiastic eruption or expansion obviously made lividly manifest overnight and already in the throes of fragrant self-digestion after what I can only assume was a brief and furious mass coupling. My delight at such uncouth proliferation knows no bounds...
On which note, I persist in my own creeping occupation of space and
matter, a very central feature of which process is enjoying
correspondence and inquiries both from those interested in the paintings
and garments displayed here (thank you for all your lovely messages!)
as well as from those engaged in sympathetic forms of creation - I would
love to hear from you + see your work! This witch seeks a more
populous coven ... xx