Mushrooms

When I drew these two mushrooms, I let their stems cross and knot together almost instinctively. The lines weren’t meant to be perfectly smooth — I wanted them to twist and pull, like threads that couldn’t separate without tearing. The shading followed that same idea: I deepened the shadows where their forms leaned into one another, so the eye lingers on the tangle before rising to the caps. It was less about precision and more about catching that feeling of two lives caught in the same current.

As I worked, I thought about how mushrooms themselves carry layers of meaning. They’re symbols of transformation, decay feeding into growth, and hidden networks beneath the surface. Their lives are intertwined with roots, trees, and unseen mycelium — nothing about them is solitary. That thought guided the restless curling of the roots in my sketch, looping back and finding each other again and again. In the end, the drawing isn’t just of mushrooms; it’s a study of connection, of how fate, like fungi, binds lives together in ways both fragile and inevitable.