this morning i awoke under a down comforter to an empty house. in ankara we are staying at mo's parents'. i have been left a too-big cushy white robe. there is lots of hot water here and norah jones playing, as mo left it when he went out this morning.
now the fall is here again
you can't begin to give in
it's all over --
when the snows come rolling through
you're rolling too
with some new lover --
will you think of times you told me
that you knew the reason
why we had to each be lonely,
was it just the season?
yesterday i spent the afternoon poking around the anatolian civilization museum. mo's driver took me. he wore a grey suit jacket, black pants and a red tie. we went in a sedan with tinted black windows, and worry beads around the gear shift. the driver dropped me off at the door, up at the top of the ankara castle.
some of the oldest artifacts from human history are here. indeed, they predate history. one of the early displays is a collection of clay stamps in geometric patterns that were used to identify tools and clothing before people had script to write their names.
the earliest items were stone tools, crude at first, then more refined, smaller and sharper. there is a stone and rawhide axe, and some fish hooks. yellowed typewritten panels tell you what you are looking at.
around the corner you step into the era where people started to live in settlements and suddenly there are all sorts of early works of art and culture.
very interesting. the development of culture must have been like the evolution of colour vision or the thumb -- no idea how you were born with it, useful to have now that you have it.
but vision is hardwired, and your thumb knows how to reach for a pebble or a fruit -- you don't need to train it. what do you do when you watch someone die and you are suddenly overcome with grief? many of the figurines of that early period were representations of women. there were young women with their hair long. there were pregnant women with round bellies and hips, women reclining, ankles folded. there were women in skirts, tunics, and one who was naked except for two gold bands that crossed over her front and covered her breasts. there was a woman with her legs drawn up, a woman lying on her stomach. there was a sculpture of a woman facing and embracing a man, then the same woman flipped and on the other side cradling a child. the statues were tiny, the size and shape of a girl's hand.
out of clay there was a woman giving birth on a throne carried by two cats, and statues of animals with wounds inflicted by arrowheads.
necklaces in stone, sometimes gold, and pieces of black obsidian polished into mirrors. a little seashell to put pigment in and a tiny spoon to apply it. blue, red and black pebbles on strings. bracelets of rock or precious metal. earrings with beads. the earliest human impulses. they buried their dead with jewels and hunting implements, and before putting them in the earth they left the bodies out for the vultures to find them.
carved out of rock and painted was a representation of two leopards: you could tell by their spots. one was larger and one was more delicate. they were lying face to face and touching lips.
the driver waited for me all day and took me back to meet mo at his work. it is a wonder driving in ankara is still even viable. people walked past and through the gridlocked traffic. in the little car it was hot and the driver and i were silent.
