No, it's not William Shatner, but rather, the colossal stone heads of Easter Island! Ever since I was a lad, this remote island populated by these monumental sculptures has retained my wonder in their mystery, and an unyielding respect for those who dedicated themselves to their shaping. How old are they? Who built them? What do they represent? So many questions and theories to answer them, although with the discovery of bodies attached to the heads, it draws one to wonder at the potential span of time they have maintained their silent vigil. How I would love to travel there someday, to feel the ancient stone beneath my hands and reach out with body and soul to those who, even now, retain the secret of their working.
Continuing from yesterdays post I add here a view of the legendary monument of Stonehenge. Although many idolize this location, my own feelings whenever I've visited it are always melancholic. A great sadness seems to hang over the stones as if bemoaning the desecration that continues in the wake of human ignorance. I hope that someday we will rediscover the reverence such monuments deserve and treat them accordingly.
One of my favourite places to go when I was a boy, was the rugged landscape of the Preseli hills with their bluestone outcrops that protrude from the earth like the bones of dragons. A remnant of the volcanic mountains they used to be. This area hums with an energy that is as strong today as it was in the days of our long dead ancestors who erected such monuments as the famous stonehenge. Indeed, stones from this very area were transported hundreds of miles to be used within that great monument of ancient man. Here however I present an ink and watercolour study of Pentre-Ifan, a Cromlech in the county of my birth that once was but the entrance to a larger communal burial mound.