Nightmare Collection - Nightmare on Root St. 2 inch

Nightmare on Root St.

There's a house at the end of every street that the neighborhood kids dare each other to run past — porch light long since dead, curtains that seem to move when there's no wind. This is what grew out of its garden.

Cast in a weathered, nightmare-inspired horror face planter — hollow-eyed, mid-scream, the kind of thing that looks harmless in daylight and considerably less harmless once the sun goes down —

Nightmare on Root St. houses a Pilea involucrata, better known as the Friendship Plant, whose deeply quilted, bronze-green leaves catch the light like something crawling rather than growing. Ironic, considering the name — this is the plant famous for being passed hand to hand between friends as easy cuttings, which makes the pairing a little less morbid than it looks at first glance.

Care is refreshingly low-drama for a piece with this much flair. Give it bright, indirect light — direct sun will scorch those textured leaves fast, while too little light leaves them dull and stretched. Water when the top inch of soil dries out, and keep the drainage solid; Friendship Plants sulk in soggy soil. They love humidity, so a spot in the kitchen or bathroom, or an occasional misting, will keep the leaves plump and the color rich. True to its name, this plant roots from cuttings with almost no effort — snip a few inches below a leaf node, pop it in water or moist soil, and in a couple weeks you'll have a new plant to pass along, exactly as it was bred to do.

The planter itself is hand-painted and finished with a matte, ash-grey wash that catches shadow in every crease of the sculpt, so the expression shifts depending on the light hitting it — unsettling at noon, worse by candlelight. A drainage hole keeps the plant's roots safe from anything lingering underneath.

Not for the faint of heart. Perfect for the porch, the windowsill, or anywhere you want trick-or-treaters to walk a little faster.