An Ojibwas Indian stands silhouetted against a North American sky. He
lights the tip of his arrow with fire. He takes careful aim toward
the heavens… draws back the string… and shoots. The blazing
missile heads upwards. The sky is dark. This will soon change. The
sun will soon be re-kindled by his flame. Daylight and warmth will
once again envelope the earth. The Indian’s vocabulary is weak. He
does not understand the word “eclipse”. He does not understand what
has caused the sun to lose its flame.
They were once married… the Sun to the Moon… and they had
offspring… and these were the stars. The myths surrounding the sun
abound. Norse myth has it that the wolf Fenrir and/or his descendants
will one day eat the sun and when that happens the Fimbulwinter will
arrive and will last three years before the arrival of Ragnorak: The
final terrible battle in which all of creation–including the
gods–will perish. I guess the moral of this tale is to always try to
keep the wolf at bay… lest he swallows your sun… kills your
gods… and ends creation. Of course… this may all well happen
without Fenrir’s help… but that’s another story.
The Aztecs understood most thoroughly the need to appease the great
Sun God. The continual desire for flayed corpses and ripped out
hearts were not only necessary requirements to keep the sun-god
happy … but–it is said–it also reflected their own dietary
penchants. Hello… waiter. We would like to order. Two roasted human
hearts for my wife and I. If you don’t mind. Medium rare. A little
blood sauce on the side. Mashed potatoes and ketchup. Ah… bless
them Aztecs. The knew civilized when they saw it.
He is born and is young in the morning as he begins his trek leaving
the eastern palace to climb the sky in his golden chariot. He
reaches maturity at his zenith… and then plunges into old age in
the west. He is the sun. He is he who is swallowed by the chaotic
dragon at night and who then swims back to the east via the
underworld to be reborn the next morning… a young again god ready
to set out on his daily trek. Clearly… monotony did not begin with
a commuter trip to work every morning.
He is many things. He is Horus… the rising sun. He is Ra… the
noon sun. He is Osirus… the setting, dying, god of the dead sun.
Horus… Ra… Osirus: Father… Son… Holy Ghost. It is all
daily… monthly… annual symbolism.
And as the sun shines strong against an azure sky… beaming at
lovers gamboling through golden meadows (has anyone out there ever
gamboled I wonder)… as the sun beams at the trysting duo… he
suddenly metamorphoses… his light dims… his shell hardens… he
takes on a metallic pallor… and he becomes… he becomes… yes…
a pair of silver earrings. So what did you think… maybe he becomes
the moon or something?
Is it a wonder… once knowing the versatility of the Hot God… is
it a wonder then that jewelers through time immemorial have made suns
and more suns. Better than making bananas I say.
For those of you who are new to this thing called Tidbits…may I
direct you to my home page at www.tyler-adam.com where you will
scroll down the left side menu till you get to the area that says
Current Tidbits… and then click on it in order to view a pair of 18
karat gold and silver Donatella Earrings signed Marinab, 1979.
Value… $3000.00 as of 1997.
And there ya have it.
That’s it for this week folks.
Catch you all next week.
Benjamin Mark
