The naked mole rat knew that he was dreaming. For one thing, he wasn't in the tunnels any more, and there weren't any other mole rats around, and he could have sworn that he hadn't been bipedal earlier in the evening. But all that was immaterial. He knew he had to be dreaming, because even naked mole rats know that you can't get blood from a turnip.
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There's an explanation for this somewhere. If you find it, tell it it owes me five bucks. All I know is that I've been in a surrealist mood lately, and my attempts to do a really epic sort of surrealist landscape in real media has been foiled by lack of skill, so in an effort to get this vision of cyclopean turnip architecture out of my head, I turn to my first great love, digital art. Painter 7 did not want to do this--it suffered a fatal crash halfway through, and I had to repaint about five hours worth of turnips--but I perservered, and drug the image out of my brain like a...thingy...prying...um...another thingy...out of a shell. Thingy.

I am almost certain that this is so damn weird, even for me, that it's a bad piece to try doing the limited edition print thing. But what the hell. I've yet to go wrong assuming that at least part of my audience is as weird as I am. So, this print is available in two sizes--the standard, small, for $10, as always, and also as a limited edition jumbo print, in a print run of only 10, one artist proof, signed and numbered by the perpetrator, for $45. Send a note or an e-mail if interested.