I spent most of my art time during the summer and fall working on "Passenger," a 10' tall sculpture depicting a bear with butterfly wings. It's my entry for ArtFields 2019, the submission deadline for which was November 5. It was a push but I got it done, got it photographed, and got it entered. I'll find out on December 18 if it made it into the competition. I'll let you know either way.

There are more pictures of the finished piece in the gallery section of my art website. I made five videos over the course of making it. It was easily my most ambitious art project to date. As with most things, it didn't turn out exactly how I had pictured it when I started. But it did come pretty close to my vision, and there are many aspects of it that I really like. 

I didn't realize until about halfway through making this piece that the posture I chose for the bear -- standing, head forward, with slumped shoulders -- is really similar to the posture I chose for a small plaster sculpture I made all way back in the early 1990's when I was living in Carbondale, Illinois. That posture, in turn, was based on the painting "Male Model" by Henry Matisse, which was the cover image on my copy of Henry Miller's Tropic of Cancer. According to my notes in the jacket, I read that book in 1992 and 1996. I carried my little plaster man sculpture around with me for years, unfinished, until one holiday spent alone in Ann Arbor (Christmas-New Year's 2008? 2009?) I went to work. I built him a set of wings from the odds and ends I had sitting around -- worn out clothes, tin cans, old screws, umbrella parts. I poured what was left of the enamel model paints I had over his shoulders. 

I can't really put my finger on why the pose appeals to me and seems to be lurking somewhere in my subconscious. And I don't think I could really dissect the piece and explain and assign meaning to all the different parts. It just doesn't work that way. Some of you may think it's frightening, or threatening, or ugly, or whatever. Maybe it's all those things to you. But to me it's much more than that. There's beauty and currents in it that, for me anyway, aren't just about aesthetics.  I guess that's why I don't paint pretty pictures with trees and sunsets and boats. No offense to those of you that do.

Anyway, this creature is now living in my driveway until further notice. I have no idea how ArtFields makes their decisions, but I'm hoping my lack of enthusiasm for delving into the meaning of the meaning of the piece in my entry doesn't hurt my chances of getting in. Ultimately, in my opinion, good art is about feeling something deep in your heart and in your bones (whether you're the creator or the audience). If I need to explain to you how the piece is supposed to make you feel, I didn't make good art. And if I can explain to you what the piece makes me feel, I didn't dig deep enough.

This year in Forbidden Archaeology, the students are making videos as group projects. They are currently working on finishing up their scripts, and we'll start taping segments next week. There is a range of a topics, but all have something to do with "fringe" claims about the human past. Barring any total breakdowns, there will be seven student videos in all. Hopefully I'll be able to start posting them in December.

As I was planning out what to this semester, I decided that making videos would be a way for the students to work on several different elements of critical thinking and communication. It would also give us an opportunity (I hope) to engage with a different audience than the 2016 class did with their blog posts. It's an experiment, so I won't really know what the broader impacts are until the videos are done and we see what the reaction is.

I made an example video so the students could get a better idea of what I was thinking of in terms of length, graphics, etc. I chose to talk about the "red-haired cannibal giants" of Nevada, and I threw this video together in a few hours on Friday afternoon. Enjoy!

Back in June, I wrote about a week spent along the Broad River with colleagues from the South Carolina Heritage Trust and some of my own students doing fieldwork associated with a research grant I received from USC. I have finally completed a video showing some of that fieldwork. I plan on doing another one explaining the analysis and results (which will be completed this calendar year or soon after). Enjoy! 

You may have noticed that I haven't been regularly blogging about the course this year. That's by design. After wearing myself out the first time around in 2016, I decided I would put less effort into intensive public/fringe interaction. I think it has worked out well. I'm enjoying teaching the course much more. There will be still be student writing online to read eventually, and we'll be making videos this year. I'm just not killing myself to invite everyone else into the classroom.

​On Friday we finished our section on Atlantis in this year's edition of Forbidden Archaeology. We spent most of the class watching and discussing a talk by Graham Hancock titled "Is the House of History Built on Foundations of Sand?"  I wanted the students to watch carefully as Hancock made his case, asking them to think about his logic, the structure of the talk, and the evidence he presented to support his claims (many pieces of which they have already been exposed to).

I have not paid a whole lot of attention to Hancock in the past. I haven't completely read any of his books, and I think that this was the first time I have ever listened to an entire talk. He spent the first portion of the talk discussing the recent evidence for the hypothesis that an impact by a comet or meteor triggered the Younger Dryas. (The Younger Dryas is an anomalous cold period that occurred about 12,900-11,700 years ago during the transition from glacial to inter-glacial conditions.) He spent the last part of the talk highlighting some purported evidence (e.g., Gobekli Tepe, the Sphinx) supporting the claim that refugees from Atlantis occupied the Near East after fleeing their island's destruction.

The linkage that Hancock makes between the hypothesized extra-terrestrial impact that triggered the Younger Dryas and the destruction of Atlantis is, when you listen closely, peculiar. Following a quotation of Plato's description of Atlantis disappearing into the sea "in a single day and night of misfortune," Hancock describes the cataclysmic effects of extra-terrestrial impacts on the earth. He first discusses the idea that a comet wiped out the dinosaurs. He then moves on to the Younger Dryas impact research, repeatedly referring to "the cataclysm" of the impact. 

So a comet or meteor wiped out at Atlantis?

No, the dates are all wrong for that. The Younger Dryas starts at about 12,900 BP (10,950 BC). Believers set the date of the destruction of Atlantis at 11,550 BP (9,600 BC). So, apparently, all the extra-terrestrial fireworks did nothing to the Atlanteans. They prospered for another 1300 years, conquering the world and mining orichalcum while the planet suffered a return to full glacial conditions.

After all the attention paid to violent cataclysm, Hancock actually attributes the destruction of Atlantis to sea level rise at the end of the Younger Dryas. Sea levels are lower during glacial periods because more of the Earth's water is tied up in ice sheets. Sea levels rise in inter-glacial periods because more of the Earth's water is in liquid form. As far as the culprit in Atlantis demise at 9,600 BC, Hancock points specifically to "a dramatic pulse of sea level rise" known as Meltwater Pulse 1b.

It will probably not surprise you to learn that, although there is debate about the magnitude, timing, and cause of Meltwater Pulse 1b, no scientist thinks it was so sudden or so rapid that it could have swallowed up a continent "in a single day and night of misfortune." Estimates of sea level rise range from about 6 to 28 meters, occurring over a period of several hundred to over a thousand calendar years. At least one study suggests the pulse didn't even start until hundreds of years after the purported submergence of Atlantis.

Regretfully, I have to announce that there will be no Spring 2019 season of the Broad River Archaeological Field School. After raising funds last spring and getting approval to teach the course pending sufficient enrollment, I recently learned that a decision was subsequently made to not even officially offer the course in the spring semester. That decision -- about which I was neither consulted nor informed -- was made way back in June. I only found out about it accidentally late last week when a student asked me why the course wasn't in the catalog. I'll spare you the who/what/why details. It's a frustrating situation.

I'm writing this blog post not to complain, but to inform those of you who have followed our progress over the last couple of years that I won't be going into the field with students again in the spring as I had anticipated. I'm going to reach out to each of the generous individuals that donated to the GoFundMe campaign and offer to refund his or her money. I will gladly hold on to the funds (which I transferred to a private account) if the donors sign off on a change of plans. If I end up retaining any of the money, I'll use it to continue my research program at 38FA608 (and/or some of the other sites that we have now identified nearby) in a modified form. I just won't be able to involve undergraduates to near the same degree as I did with the field school. 

Anyway . . . stay tuned. I've always been good at scrambling and making the best of the hand I'm dealt.

For those of you that enjoyed the weekly videos from last spring's Broad River Archaeological Field School, I wanted to make you aware of this compilation of the entire season into a single 2:16 presentation. It will be a good refresher for me to watch the whole thing, as I'll be spending much of this semester working on analysis and write-up of the data from the first two seasons of work at 38FA608. Enjoy!

Here in Columbia, we're currently waiting to see what kind of punch Florence will still be packing when it gets here. We've had plenty of time to prepare (USC and the public schools have been closed since Tuesday), and we certainly won't get the kind of beating that the coast is getting. It does look like what's left of the storm will be coming straight for us, however, probably bringing a lot of rain. We've been under the clouds of Florence's extremities all day, and the wind has been steadily picking up.

City officials say that they're ready this time, and what happened in 2015 won't happen again. I hope that's true. I'm not betting on it, though. We stocked up on water. And bought a generator. We've got food, cash, extra gas, batteries, a sump pump in the basement, and a portable AC unit that we can use to keep a room cool to sleep in if we lose power for a prolonged stretch. Hopefully it will all be unnecessary. 

Stronger winds and rain from Florence should arrive in Columbia tomorrow morning, with the center of the storm not reaching us until Sunday. 

​Now onto the art news . . .

The Race Against the Bear

I've been working on a 9-10' bear sculpture since May. I have always intended it as my entry into ArtFields 2019, but I'm not sure I'll get it done in time. The entry deadline is November 5. I'm over the hump, but still have a long way to go. I've made three videos showing my progress so far. You can follow the bear more closely by following my Instagram account.

And the Winner Is . . .
​
Based on participation, my summer selfie contest -- my attempt at art branding -- was a flop. That's the bad news. The good news is that the few entries makes it easier to pick a winner.  And the winner is . . . . . .  Flavia Lovatelli! I chose a photo of Flavia with "Naked Flank" as the winner. Congratulations, Flavia, you rock!

My Fall Commitments are Low

I entered two pieces ("My Father's Hammer" and "Music Box") in the South Carolina State Fair this year. Other than trying to get the bear done to enter in ArtFields, though, I have little else on the horizon. I decided not to enter several local and regional shows and I turned down an offer for a show. I decided in June to take pressure off myself by not committing, and I've stuck to that. I wish I had more time for art than I do, but I'm happy with the pivot I've taken away from promotion and toward trying to find a groove to make what I want to make. 

Just as I did in 2016, I started off the first day of Forbidden Archaeology with a brief pre-course questionnaire to try to get some insight into the level of familiarity of my students with various relevant television programs and topics. I kept the television programs the same as in 2016, but added/deleted some of the topics to more closely reflect what we'll be talking about this semester.

Here are the "familiarity" data for television programs from both today and 2016:

As is plain to see, the report from the class of 2018 is pretty similar to the report from the class of 2016. Ancient Aliens has clearly penetrated this demographic to a much greater degree than any of the programs, with over half of the class members (n=19 in attendance) reporting that he/she has watched at least one episode. The majority of the class had not even heard of the other three programs. Two students account for the four "watched it regularly" responses.

I also asked about the same four publications as I did in 2016: Chariots of the Gods! (Von Daniken), Fingerprints of the Gods (Hancock), Forbidden Archaeology (Cremo), and Ancient American magazine. Most of the students report never hearing of any of them, and those that have heard of them report that they've never read them.

Here are the data from the "circle what you're familiar with" questions:

There are a few things of note in the 2018 data. Not surprising is that Atlantis is the clear winner in terms of familiarity: they've all hear of it. In contrast, no-one was familiar with the term "OOPArt," and only one person reported having heard of Lemuria. There is a fair amount of familiarity with terms like "aryans," "Rh factor," and "Mound Builders," which does not surprise me because most of the students are anthropology majors.

I was surprised at the number of affirmative answers for "Nephilim," "elongated skulls," and "Nibiru." It's possible that familiarity with those terms is largely due to Ancient Aliens, as half the class reports seeing the program at least once. I don't think that would explain "Flood geology," however. I'll have to dig deeper on Monday to learn more about the origins of their exposure to these concepts. 

The first class period of this year's throwdown of Forbidden Archaeology is in about a half hour. I'll write about what I've got in store so far this year soon. I'll also beginning writing more about my ongoing "real" archaeological work, including the trenching work we did in the spring and my plans on various other fronts. It was nice to have an honest break over the summer, and I feel re-charged and ready for a fun semester.

I wanted to take a moment to point you in the direction of a short article about the 2018 Broad River Archaeological Field School that appears in the latest edition of Legacy. If you followed the videos, much of what is in the article will be familiar. If not, it's a time-saving summary. 

I'd also like to take a moment to congratulate Nena Rice upon her retirement. She has worked at SCIAA for over thirty years in numerous capacities, including as editor of Legacy. Thank you, Nena, for all your dedication and hard work!