Mycelium

Emily Browning

Stoneware, stain, glaze / wheel-thrown and hand-sculpted

Monologue: There is a stump where my sisters congregate. Betwixt folds of mycelium, where sponge-cored wood meets time immemorial, we preach and eat and sing. In our vast anchorage, we are electric, shameless, naked in our baths of ancient rot. We are pure and hedonistic delight!
We are leagues away but share one pulse.
We gorge on the dregs of life, inheriting all that is left behind.