Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘archaeology’

Kronoberg Castle, on the shores of Helgasjön, in Sweden

June 2011

[See the complete album here!]

“The citadel was dark, and the heroes were sleeping. When they breathed, it sounded as if they were testing the air for dragon smoke.

On their sofas of spice and feathers, the concubines also slept fretfully. In those days the Earth was still flat, and people dreamed often of falling over edges.

Blacksmiths hammered the Edge Serpent on the anvils of their closed eyelids. Wheelwrights rolled it, tail in mouth, down the cart roads of their slumber. Cooks roasted it in dream pits, seamstresses sewed it to the badger hides that covered them, the court necromancer traced its contours in the constellation of straw on which he tossed. Only the babes in the nursery lay peacefully, passive even to the fleas that supped on their tenderness.”

–Tom Robbins’s Jitterbug Perfume

{the castle courtyard}

{Beautiful, delicate Swedish wildflowers.}

[See the complete album here!]

[Images by Kelly Overvold; pictures of Kelly taken by Scott Zaban.]

Read Full Post »

Downtown Cape Town

South Africa

March 2011

“…the apricot warmth of a summer Sunday morning when almost everyone slept late and moldy cocks kept in postage-stamp, asphalt yards crowed their confined calls to wake no one in particular. Then the sun rose over-ripe although it was barely six o’clock and the whole District was snoring and blowing away the fumes of Saturday evening. The gaiety and sheer abandonment of the previous night had given way to the exhausted sleep of Sunday morning.” — Richard Rive, excerpt from “Buckingham Palace,” District Six in Whereabouts Press’s A Traveler’s Literary Companion

[See the complete album here!]

[Images by Kelly Overvold and Scott Zaban.]

Read Full Post »

Lima, Peru

February 2011

[See the complete Album here.]

We do not speak like Petrarch or wear a hat like Spenser
and it is not fourteen lines
like furrows in a small, carefully plowed field

but the picture postcard, a poem on vacation,
that forces us to sing our songs in little rooms
or pour our sentiments into measuring cups.

We write on the back of a waterfall or lake,
adding to the view a caption as conventional
as an Elizabethan woman’s heliocentric eyes.

We locate an adjective for the weather.
We announce that we are having a wonderful time.
We express the wish that you were here

and hide the wish that we were where you are,
walking back from the mailbox, your head lowered
as you read and turn the thin message in your hands.

A slice of this place, a length of white beach,
a piazza or carved spires of a cathedral
will pierce the familiar place where you remain,

and you will toss on the table this reversible display:
a few square inches of where we have strayed
and a compression of what we feel.

— “American Sonnet,” by Billy Collins

[See the complete Album here.]

[For more information on the Museo Larco pieces, please explore their site athttp://www.museolarco.org/iindex.html They have all 45,000 pieces of their collection published in their e-catalog.]

Read Full Post »

Rome, Italy

March 2010

[See the complete album here!]

“A man within a woman, nay, a god,
Speaks through her spoken word:
I therefore, who have heard,
Must suffer change, and shall be mine no more.
She lured me from the paths I whilom trod.
Borne from my former state by her away,
I stand aloof, and mine own self deplore.
Above all vain desire
The beauty of her face doth lift my clay;
All lesser loveliness seems charnel mire.
O lady, who through fire
And water leadest souls to joys eterne,
Let me no more unto myself return.”
— Michelangelo

[See the complete album here!]

[Images by Kelly Overvold and Scott Zaban.]

Read Full Post »