The guardian, the ancient, the sentinel

I placed him on my desk this morning, letting the winter light gleam across his heavy face.

There is this powerfully noble and gentle way he gazes past the frame. Looking forward to a fate I cannot see nor comprehend.

He is witnessing something sacred, something ancient, and something true.

Lately, I have been allowing the meaning behind my work to unveil itself with time. I have accepted that their intentions arrive long after I have laid the last layer of graphite.

These wise, sentient beings,

They hold the language to thoughts and fears I cannot yet articulate outloud.

This bear, The Sentinel, feels like my guardian. Ever present, ever strong, and always keeping watch.

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