Roughly seven months ago after deciding to actually start storing collectables I found my cabinets lacking something. Having a minor bonsai tree obsession for many years the decision fell upon something organic.
While living things have their charm, they're not really suited for placing inside cabinets.
The lack of sunlight and the ability to attract far more creatures than I'd prefer the search continued.
On the 24th of February earlier this year gold was struck while browsing for custom built trees and shrubberies. The artist's name was Troy Stith, a gentleman who more or less applied foliage to vinyl toys and made them look awesome. This was exactly what I was looking for and without hesitation I fired away an e-mail while browsing his gallery.
Just a few hours later and to my surprise, he accepted my commission along with a notice that it would take quite some time for the creation to finish.
Tossing ideas back and forth resulted in Troy suggesting that the piece should be fully custom built instead of using premade parts.
Initially, the basic idea was that either one or two trees would act as protectors of the cabinet figures. This idea became an apparent lackluster and something bigger took form in our conversations. Instead of just supporting fellow creations, this piece came to play a lead role in the collection.
Troy was kind enough to supply The Guardian with its own backstory, quoted below.
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The village of Mikomi sits about one hundred yards from the twin trunked behemoth known to locals as ‘The Guardian’. The mighty tree once stood with both trunks intact and it was nothing more than a favorite lounging spot for the people of the village. That was until the night a massive storm fell upon the forests surrounding Mikomi.
Wind gusts picked away at houses while torrential rain soaked through thatched roofs. Villagers huddled next to one another as the clouds bellowed out earth shaking thunder. Flashes of lightning illuminated the terrified faces of the children before plunging them back into darkness. Village elders tried to remain calm, but even their hearts quivered with fear as the storm’s anger grew.
Suddenly a large white flash and an even bigger crack deafened the terrified villagers. Moaning and creaking were followed by the sounds of leaves and branches falling to the ground. As soon as the sound ended, the rain began to let up, but the villagers stayed in place. Deciding that there was nothing they could do in the darkness of night, they would wait until morning to assess the damages.
As soon as the warm rays of light began to fill the village, the people of Mikomi started to surface from their hiding spots. Mikomi’s shaman Opler was the first to discover what the large crash was that marked the end of the storm. The large tree the village had always taken for granted, had been struck with lightning severing one of it’s mighty trunks. Opler took this as a sign, that this tree had sacrificed it’s brother in order to protect the villagers. The base of the tree had become a cavern of charred remains and growth feeding the remaining living trunk.
Opler named the tree ‘The Guardian’ and began the tradition of paying homage to this protector. To this day the villagers of Mikomi pin sheets of gratitude and prayer within the cavernous trunk.
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Apart from being a protector of the land, The Guardian also symbolizes the circle of life. Every single living, breathing creation goes through this circle. The struggle between life and death is something we all share, something I really wanted incorporated in this piece.
The living part is constantly growing, gaining the upper hand of its gloomy twin.
Lying dormant for now, the dead side is a reminder of the inevitable end.
The original concept included a temple lodged either onto or into the tree. Later on it felt more natural to let the entire trunk serve as a shrine to the occasional visitor.
Great detail from ground to sky. The branch foliage, the moss-covered bark to the grassy foundation surrounding The Guardian is a treat to watch.
The living side, bathed in lush and light.
The cold, dead side, withering away.
Say your prayers.
It's remarkable how a single idea can spark something in the mind of an artist.
Troy truly outdid himself with my request and this little masterpiece will proudly sit on one of the shelves for many years to come.
