#stumpcore
thorns peck at your cheek as you duck down in the underbrush. a great beast stalks past you, ever so silently. its vast antlers skim the trees above as it pads across the forest floor.
travel deep into the forest. barefoot in the dirt, the roots wrap tight around your ankles and draw you into the soft earth
lie still. relax into the soil. there is nothing to be afraid of
do your teeth feel too big for your jaw? can you hear the blood pounding against your veins? tell me what you can see from your den, and let a howl loose into the wind
run barefoot in the dewy grass. taste the freedom you’ve always hungered for
stumpcore
- the remnants of something old and long forgotten; the moss covered remains of a felled tree - while the tree itself is lost, its stump brings forth new life, new beginnings
- mushrooms growing in the moss; a safe place to hide; a collection of fresh rainwater
- thank the woods for its sacrifice and use what it has given you
- soft seedlings between stubborn stones; a frog croaks his mournful melody; a safe haven as a gift from the thicket
- one day you will fall as did the benevolent bole, and your gift will guide life to spring and flourish, not unlike you once did
- the forest will always be your home. you will always be safe here. you will always return here.
stumpcore is:
loving nature and taking care of it because it does its best to take care of you
even after something is dead it still harbors new life
moss moss moss moss
being kind and loving others
seeing things not as endings but as new beginnings
wishing you could grow antlers or become a tree
when sunlight does that pretty thing where it’s filtered through leaves in streams
mushrooms showing up wherever they want
hearing a frog’s croak, far away
imagine climbing into a hollow stump full of moss. and you feel warm and safe
