‘Surrender your crown on this blood stained ground, take off your mask
He sees your deeds, he knows your needs‘
-Bob Dylan (When He Returns)
Here is my final mask representing a local spirit called Grandfather Ogden. Legend has it that he grew like a tree out of a patch of bloody earth where a young man was slain by robbers. Others say he emerged from a cocoon that grew in the corner of a half-rotten shed of an old widow, or that he was first seen as an entry in a local village scarecrow competition, or that he is merely an urban legend whispered about by Scouts on camp in the nearby fields.
Anyway, the mask is pretty rough around the edges, but it’s really designed to be a prop in a photograph rather than a finely polished piece of work in itself, so I’m feeling pretty forgiving about that.