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He is of the garden, growing seeds, father of herbal medicine, knowing that all we need has been given to us, knowing the garden is still there for us and we have exiled ourselves through an ignorance of choice.
His staff is his light, a geologic flower which formed over thousands of years into crystal perfection, his soul would look like this if you could see it, shrouded by his form of clay. Borrowing heavily from the African tradition this father has sacrificed one of his ears, one of his eyes, one arm, and one leg to be less of him and "more of thou". He is a Zen master and a Kabbalistic scholar. He is my father, the Mennonite Pastor from whom I still draw so much wisdom. Every mark on this piece represents some teaching I hold dear. He is the teacher who reveals the "still small voice".
Standing about 12 inches tall he is ready to grace your space with a reminder of the struggle and grace of moving ever closer toward God. Everyday closer.