Little mushroom artz

I think the sun turned out great, it's my biggest painting ever. Subscribe to see the finished version 🙂

Skip the Carousel

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

2 weeks ago | [YT] | 3

Little mushroom artz

Crow with an astronaut helmet on

Skip the Carousel

1 2 3

4 weeks ago | [YT] | 3

Little mushroom artz

Here’s a painting I made some time ago #painting

Skip the Carousel

1 2 3

1 month ago | [YT] | 1

Little mushroom artz

3point pov drawing I made #art #artyoutube

Skip the Carousel

1 2 3 4

1 month ago | [YT] | 1

Little mushroom artz

www.redbubble.com/i/framed-print/red-eye-tree-frog…

4 months ago | [YT] | 2

Little mushroom artz

you should check my Redbubble out
www.redbubble.com/people/littlemooshrum/shop?asc=u

4 months ago | [YT] | 2

Little mushroom artz

🌲 Part 4 — The Roots That Breathe

He stumbled backward, the lantern swinging wildly. The eyes stayed fixed on him, unblinking, cold. His heel caught on something thick, and he fell hard against the ground.

A root.

But when he tried to push himself up, it moved.

It twisted around his ankle. Slowly. Deliberately. The bark was rough and damp, but underneath, it pulsed. Like muscle. Like flesh.

He kicked wildly, tearing free, skin scraped raw where it had gripped him. His breath came fast, ragged. The forest floor seemed alive beneath him—roots shifting just under the soil, waiting.

The whispers swelled, circling him now, too many voices to follow. The trees creaked as if groaning under some hidden weight.

And in that suffocating moment, he understood:

The forest wasn’t cursed.

It was breathing.

4 months ago | [YT] | 0

Little mushroom artz

🌲 Part 3 — The Eyes in the Dark

Night fell too fast. Too sudden, as if the sun hadn’t set but been snuffed out.

The forest was drenched in darkness. He lit his lantern, the small flame trembling in the glass, and immediately wished he hadn’t.

Dozens of eyes reflected the light back at him.

They gleamed from every direction—between the trees, above in the branches, even low to the ground, peering out from beneath roots and hollows. At first, he thought they might be animals. Wolves. Foxes. Anything natural.

But no.

They were too tall. Too still. Too many.

The whispers rose again, not scattered this time, but united. Layered voices, all speaking at once. And for the first time, he understood the words.

“Why did you come here?”

The lantern shook in his hand. He couldn’t answer. He didn’t dare.

And so the voices spoke again, louder, closer.

“Why… did you come here?”

4 months ago | [YT] | 2

Little mushroom artz

🌲 Part 2 — The Path That Moves

He told himself it was only the wind. Just the forest settling. Just his imagination.

But when he turned back, his stomach dropped.

The path he had taken—the trail of crushed leaves and broken twigs—was gone.
In its place lay a tangle of roots, thick and black with damp soil, weaving across the ground like veins. The trees loomed closer now, their trunks bending inward as though they had shifted while he wasn’t looking.

Panic crept up his spine. He wasn’t lost. He couldn’t be lost—he’d only walked a short while. He tried to retrace his steps, but every time he looked away, the forest seemed… different. Twisted. Rearranged.

The trees weren’t standing still.

They were leaning. Always leaning, just a fraction closer each time he blinked. Like they were listening. Like they were waiting.

And somewhere in the mist, he thought he saw a hand. Pale. Still. Half-hidden behind a trunk.

But when he blinked—it was gone.

4 months ago | [YT] | 2

Little mushroom artz

Here’s a random story
🌲 Part 1 — The Whispering Forest

“They told him the forest was cursed…”

But he didn’t believe them.

Old stories, passed around like warnings, meant to keep children from wandering too far. He’d heard them his whole life—tales of voices in the mist, shadows that moved when no one was watching, and trees that leaned closer the deeper you went. The elders said no one who stayed past sunset ever came back the same.

He laughed at that. A forest was just a forest.

So one morning, before dawn, while the village still slept, he crossed the crumbling wooden bridge that marked the edge of the safe land. The moment his boots touched the mossy ground on the other side, the air grew colder.

At first, everything seemed normal. Birds stirred in the branches. The scent of pine and damp earth filled his lungs. Shafts of weak sunlight filtered through the canopy above. It was beautiful. Peaceful.

Too peaceful.

The further he walked, the quieter it became. No birds. No insects. Not even the wind dared to move. Just the sound of his own footsteps crunching on dead leaves.

And then—he heard it.

A whisper. Low. Fragile. Almost like someone calling his name.

He froze, heart hammering.

It came again. Clearer this time. Closer.

The villagers had warned him about this. “The forest will speak to you,” they said. “But if you answer, it will never let you go.”

He swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how alone he really was.

The whisper drifted through the trees once more—this time not from the distance, but from right behind him. (Go to my channel for part two.)

4 months ago | [YT] | 1