Showing posts with label rock art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rock art. Show all posts

Thursday, December 13, 2012

I love that some web administrator for the USDA saw fit to illustrate a rather P.C. news release from the Forest Service with an image of the, errr.... striking One-Hung-Low pictographs from the Middle Fork of the Salmon:


My larger version:

Thursday, March 24, 2011

A fascinating read about cave art of the Mississippian Culture. If our archaeologically informed readers know of a readable and tolerably up-to-date book about the Mississippians, I'd appreciate a recommendation.

Hat tip to Chas.

Saturday, May 08, 2010

Letter to the editor, Santa Fe New Mexican, 5.07.10, reproduced in full:
My 30 years' research for a book on ancient petroglyphs reveals a meaning greatly differing from what archaeologists have told us.

I have irrefutable proof that ancient Egyptians, Minoans, Libyans and Galesteans (the Cycladic island of Santorini was originally named "Galeste") founded a colony in the Galisteo Basin circa 1626 B.C. Despite suppression by the archaeological community, I am now moving forward with production. Over the years, several important photos and negatives which I made over 25 years ago have been selectively stolen from my house.

Earlier this year, a packet of 126 film negatives which I needed to make quality enlargements for my book were stolen by professional burglars. Meanwhile, archaeologists in charge won't allow me on San Cristobal Ranch to make replacement photos so I am forced to use inferior photos. Is the archaeology community so weak that it cannot tolerate dissident views?
Hear, hear, let the man publish!

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Prehistoric Pueblo Parrots

Reid Farmer has a post up at Querencia regarding Mesoamerican imports to the Southwest. Inasmuch as he mentions macaws and parrots specifically, I thought I'd share a frame from a panel very near Santa Fe which I've been visiting lately:


I'm no rock art expert, but they sure look like parrots to me. Reid?

While I'm at it, might as well post a few more. Some things never change around here apparently; why did Kokopelli become an icon but not horned serpents?


Evidence of Romanovs in pre-Entrada New Mexico:


Lots of good animals in this panel:

Sunday, February 03, 2008

UN peacekeepers are vandalizing rock art sites, reports the London Times. Sigh. At least these idiots were dumb enough (like a river passenger I once had) to sign and date their vandalism. For once, I wish the full wrath of European political correctitude may fall on their heads.

Via Cronaca.

Monday, December 31, 2007

Year's End Outing with Rock Art

Here are some scenes of my last hike of the year, yesterday, in a very fine, moderately isolated canyon in western Colorado (the diligent can surely deduce the location, but my current stance is that nowhere needs any publicity whatsoever). First, the context, with frozen waterfall. The bedrock is basement metamorphic schist, overlaid by some odd red granitish stuff I couldn't place, followed by cliff-forming Wingate sandstone:


Unsurprisingly, the Indians liked this place. Inhabitants included Desert Archaic culture, possibly the Fremont and certainly historic Ute. One sees hand prints pretty often, but I was pleased to find one that strikes me as a bear print:


Some abstracts, in their spectacular gallery:


The same up close:


Historic Ute presence is clearly visible here. I hesitate to identify the beastie. The first thing that leapt to my mind, somehow, was horny toad, but it seems hard to justify any taxon with close examination:


An elegant pecked herbivore body, reminds me of the graceful forms of Old World rock art:


Another panel in splendid context:


Detail of above. Again, hand prints are common enough, but the unusual inclusion of the arm here conveys a reaching, grasping which is highly evocative. Though hardly objectivly warranted, thoughts come to the mind of desparation, clutching at the stone:


Finally, what can this engraving evoke save hunting magic? The bighorn sheep, perched in a high place, surveying the territory; likewise the artist/hunter, eulogizing his prey in stone as he too scans the canyon for another animal.


And so the author, high against the cliff, crouching and looking at the canyon, red stone, frozen stream, the tribes gone, the sheep still here.

Long time gone.