Taken from a time of long contemplation upon an inland island, within the hallowed confines of a an ancient and crumbling church. There struck by the light of the sun through so many trees at just the right angle to find it's way through open windows until just a sliver of light reached the aging wooden statue of Christ, his hands in a state of total submission, accepting his fate. And yet, despite the old gnarled wood that they were carved from there was a life to them. At any moment I anticipated my own shock to see them twitch with life.