You! Yes, you! Stand still, laddy.
---Pink Floyd, The Wall
This piece kind of apes the scene in the movie where Dorothy and the Scarecrow find the Tinman frozen in place after a rainstorm. I was hoping to suggest that he'd been out in the forest for a while, because when you think about it, it's a rather horrific notion. Imagine being frozen in place because the wisened old smithy who created you, while a mechanical genius, lacked the foresite to use aluminum instead of fucking tin. You're trapped, conscious, in your own body as the elements dissolve your being and vermin nest in your body, stealing your last vestiges of dignity. Alone. Forgotten, and even if you weren't, the creeping forest growth is, inch by inch, cutting you off from the light of day and any chance of discovery. How long before you go mad? Five years? How long before you die? Do tin men die? You pray that they do.
(Uh, sorry, lost it a bit there.)
Anyhow, developed a new technique which I think has much potential: spiderwebs!