Fullmoonnight [Vollmondnacht]

She is the becoming of embodiment—of quiet strength and reflective grace—an oracle of the full moon’s silver gaze. Sitting 40 centimetres high upon her soapstone throne, she is both sentinel and sanctuary, whispering the ancient language of light born from darkness. In her presence, one feels the hush of midnight and the awe of revelation.

The blue and white crystals woven throughout her form shimmer like moonlight on still water, shifting with every glance. They are the breath of the sky captured in stone—a reminder that clarity can emerge from the depths of silence, and grace often takes its shape in the unseen.

Her 24kt gold antlers rise not with arrogance but with fluid reverence—like tides called forth by the moon herself. Not rigid, not ceremonial, but alive with motion. They stretch outward like thoughts at the edge of sleep, catching the moon’s radiance as inspiration kindled in solitude. These antlers do not command; they commune. They are lunar signals, attuned to the cosmic rhythm, echoing dreams too vast for daylight.

Have you noticed how the full moon, in his completeness, illuminates not with heat, but with cooling gentleness?

She suggests that wisdom does not always arrive with clarity—but with mystery. Each crystalline facet along her form is a moonlit knowing, a truth found not in logic, but in luminous intuition. They are revelations that surface only when the world quiets and inner tides rise.

What emerges in you beneath the full moon’s light? What inner tides rise when stillness becomes your guide? What long-hidden longing begins to speak when the world is hushed and glowing?

Throughout the night, her crystals shift in harmony with the moon’s dance—sometimes glowing like a veil of stardust, sometimes deep as the void beyond the stars—reminding us that truth is not fixed, and that darkness itself is a mirror.

Some will see merely a sculpture. But others—those who have listened to dreams, who have wandered beneath a silver sky—will see in her a deeper teaching: that strength is not the absence of vulnerability, but its embrace. That clarity often comes wrapped in shadow. And that the moon, in her fullness, teaches us how to be both luminous and whole.