Eclipse Valley is a place that can’t exist — mostly because it’s infinite desert. But that’s fine, because it’s a lighter reflection of our own world: one where monsters aren’t evil. They are still monsters, make no mistake: they are big, looming things that go bump in the night — but they’re not hostile. They know we exist, they love watching humans, they sometimes interact with humans, but they aren’t up to something. No judgement, no hunger, no crushing footsteps or raging spirits. Just… curiosity.

The monsters dotting the infinite desert of Eclipse Valley are curious! They want to know more about us! Because they think we’re neat! Similar to wildlife photographers and biologists that observe creatures for decades without interacting with them, the monsters are doing much the same to the humans. On occasion, they’ll interact: the housewife with the cyclops, for example. I think of this like when humans interact with backyard wildlife and fuck up their local ecosystem, like that one town in New England that fed the bears so much they just took over.

The desert is inspired by Dalí’s wastelands in his surreal works, but I deliberately call them deserts. Deserts are full of life adapted to such an environment, cacti and reptiles and birds and mammals and unique insects and arachnids and everything you can think of. Even a few amphibians and fish call the desert their home. It is a harsh environment, but not at all a wasteland. The monsters and the humans are just as much part of the desert environment as the cactus and the coyote.

Eclipse Valley is a surreal place, one that runs on a very specific cocktail. Take folk and fairy tale logic, dream logic, and the improv phrase “yes, and”. Add to it the Mojave and the Sahara, and the sunsets of both. Finally, add the darkness of an open closet in the middle of the night, and the eyes of your old beloved toys that may stare at you from them. Now, pour that in a blender, hit puree, and sip over ice. That’s Eclipse Valley. A place that’s full of the strange and surreal, where eyes watch from above, but they don’t impose themselves upon you, or anyone. The giant cyclops watching you tend your rose bush in the yard is as mundane as a squirrel watching you do the same thing. The monsters aren’t hostile, and neither are the people. The world is a mystery, and exploring it is the point. Saddle up and see what dark voids you can find out there in the eternal sands of Eclipse Valley.