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Mycelial Person was like surrendering into an almost familiar environment; with only a whisper’s guide at my ear, only a collection of spores touching at my hand - like something gooey tracking through the pages.
I’ve never smelled so much in a book.
It doggedly searched for unnoticed, unseen, forgotten patterns, whose shapes rose gently and fell. But it oozed with acceptance: giving away and away and away, each gift collecting and condensing into the making of the story itself.
This book is a mushroom of love.
— Irene LeeView playlist