This piece refers to a place in the woods of Maine I used to secret myself away to as a little girl. At the center of the room, a glossy, upholstered platform invites viewers in to rest. Made from macro photographs of moss, the textile creates a composite, pixelated experience of the forest floor. The sound of drifting radio frequencies simulates wind. At times, the abrupt and clear voice of a bird breaks through the distant crackle. Found footage of shadows moves gently across the platform’s illuminated surface. Landscape (Moss) pulls between furniture and forest floor, artificial and organic, digital and analog. Like memory, it is a between-thing.