4+ Decades have passed since my encounter with Suzanne, a contemporary model sporting close to the scalp hairstyle, chiseled white boyish features, dark brown straight hair, tight sumptuous lean body and a warm radiant smile.We were working on a fine art series when I discovered through conversation that she was a shaman. That would be the first and last time to this date 9/8/2025 that I would cross the path of a shaman.
Suzanne offered to sell me psilocybe mushrooms and I obliged by purchasing a large quantity that was used on three separate occasions. Two times with my wife watching over me and the last one with two friends.
The three experiences super charged my spiritual energy and inspired the following poem which chronicles the preparatory procedure I used before ingesting the nausiating dried psylicibe mushrooms bearing the taste of rancid popcorn.
