It was an unfamiliar shape, smooth and distinct, but not discernible to the casual observer. Looking up occasionally to nod or greet someone, the carver sanded continuously, sprinkling dust onto the ground and onto his clothing.

Occasionally he picked up a small hand tool and gently rubbed the under side of the raised figure.

The artist, Gene Elkins of Pacific, has developed a kinship with this unusual piece of wood - a 25-pound maple burl - that he bought seven years ago at a wood expo. It has now become his constant companion.

"It needed to dry for a few years," he said.

As the large burl dried, Elkins looked at the shapes among the irregular protrusions that resembled the towers and clumps of red clay left by erosion in some Western landscape. Finally, the carver began to see the shadow of a mythical figure.

Last December he picked up a tool and began to cut and gouge away the outline of his object that seemed to define itself in the mass of knots and protrusions.

Once you have carved a piece of wood the skill stays with you, according to Elkins, who carved a soapbox derby car for a Cub Scout race. His soapbox didn't win the competition, but he still has it.> As he continued cutting away at pieces of wood, he developed a liking for objects that resemble something living or mythical. His collection of horses, which he carves for his wife Rebecca, fish and reptiles has grown over the years. He has given some of the pieces to his daughter and son.

"This will be a two-headed dragon," he said. "If you look closely you can see it taking shape."

When it's finished, he will give the dragon to his son who now lives in Rogers, Ark.

"We all have to leave something behind for our kids," Elkins said.

Elkins is a familiar figure to many strollers on the coffee company patio where he has become a fixture with another artistic genre. On Tuesday evenings he often brings his acoustic guitar to the coffee company, hooks up to an amp and plays a soft series of melodies and riffs.

Like his carving, his music seems slightly mysterious. Even as the listener is drawn into a familiar melody the phrases of an actual song may not appear.

"Every artist is himself," said David McHugh, coffee company owner. "Gene's followers are faithful. They know what they're looking for."