There they are, painted on the walls and ceilings of caves. Bison, elk, bears, horses, eagles, women, men these figures are ageless. they were born thousands up on thousands of years ago, but they are born anew every time someone looks at them. How could our ancestor of long ago paint so delicately? How could a brute who fought wild beasts with his bare hands create images so filled with grace? How did he manage to draw those flying lines that break free of the stone and take to the air? how could he?…
Or was it she?
– from Mirrors by Eduardo Galeano
Lovely weekend in spite of the weather.