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The painting

I have had several wonderful experiences on mushrooms.



I have had several wonderful experiences on mushrooms. In fact, the mere suggestion of mushrooms makes my brain tingle in ecstatic and stimulating ways. My first trip really stands out in my mind.

It was a beautiful fall day in Michigan. Perfect, crisp air, beautifully colored leaves, and I had an entire day to adventure with psylocybin. Myself and a good friend had the use of a medium sized house where we would not be phoned or disturbed by any unwanted company. We ate our mushrooms with peanut butter. In anticipation we sat on large, vibrantly-colored couches. About a half-an-hour later I didn't want to get up.

I was so happily surrounded by the plush, violet color of my couch, I felt I was just dripping with all of it's purple energy.

In order to experience everything, though, I decided to stand up and walk to the wall, which was a rich gold color. I looked into a mirror. The frame decided to rotate and somehow reminded me of an ancient egyptian headress.

My face was streaked with small tears, my happiness evident in the huge grin soaking my face. I gave myself a little hug, appreciating the soft cotton shirt I had worn, and my favorite orange pants.

"Let's go for a walk," suggests Justin, my fellow tripper. So we did. Out the beautiful front door stepping as if on air onto the large cement steps that beckoned us onward. Down the sidewalk we went. "It's really quite lovely tripping in the garden, my dear." I remarked, beaming and grinning, lighting up a cigarette. "I do love this painting," he replied grabbing a Camel Light.

And there we were in this beautiful painting, like an impressionist Michigan-autumn interpretation of perfection. Down the street and to the park. Sat on a bench, perfectly brown and really quite a good idea to have around, why thank you dear city. Ah, the ground moves in geometrical patterns. The earth and that hill seems to breath. It's the Gaya hypothesis. We lay face down, hugging the ground.

The soil smells great, the grass is soft and lush and fall is in the air. We decide to frolic. Then we return to the house. Why not look at the records? So we put on some Van Morrison. You can feel that excitement as your hear the scratchy sounds of needle against vinyl. mmmmm... here it comes. Life is so much smoother so much better when you're "plugged in" to the main current, really living. So nice not to have to call anyone, arrange schedules or be hurrying off somewhere, so nice to be rid of all those diversionary squiggles that clot the natural blood-flow of a well lived life. I feel my bone marrow thanking me for this time out to really live, wholly and happily.

Water, anyone? The doorbell rings. It's Noah and Rob! Oh I'm so overjoyed that they've come to visit. Such a lovely house, and now we have guests. Can I make them some food? I make them pasta, and Noah and I retreat to the backyard to jump on the trampoline. Sweet sweet bouncing inhalations of crisp fall air. Lovely painting, indeed. Time for Rob and Noah to go, after a bit of dancing. Such a pity, it was so nice to have houseguests. Evening is drawing near, and we have to be heading back home. Ah, I'm a bit tired. I sit and talk with my mom and dad. Their faces are careworn. They have been doing yardwork. The sun has set, and they are ready to relax, and I as well.

One of the best days of my life.

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