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And from this turmoil ... as from most turmoils ... myths arose. Easter Island myths accompanied by diabolical rituals ... and even more diabolical figures. I shall show you four of these charming little chaps. Little statuettes made with charming grace embodying evil incarnate. I have a name for only two of the four. Bottom left is Moai Kavakava depicting a rotting ancestral corpse and bottom right ... Moai Paapaa representing the spirit of a woman. The other two grimacing creatures are supposedly models for tattoos.
During feasts and other celebrations indigenes wore as many as twenty of these little creatures on their bodies and they cavorted and whirled in frenzied chaos to the thunderous rhythms of arcane sounds. I say with reasonable certainty that they weren't dancing to fiddles.
Ah ... but I have more. There's the ne plus ultra of artistic achievement. Who is the greater talent? The one who creates a complex work of beauty filled with color and mood using the most modern of tools and who evokes swelling emotions in all who view his work?...or is the one who works in a squalid environment--bare-chested with only daylight to guide his hand--and uses only the most primitive of tools to create his vision.
I digress for an instant to bring up a science fiction story I read a thousand years ago about a similar contest held by a universal entity judging the most talented musicians in all the neighboring galaxies. The winner was a primitive who had a single stringed instrument and plunked out only one note ... for he did the most with what he had.
I don't know about your workspaces and workbenches. I consider mine rather complete and sophisticated. But I would never dare to compare my work to that of the carver on Easter Island who produces with what he has the images you are about to see ... as well as the carver at work. That said ... go ... go now ... go quick ... and look ... and see ... and tell me what you think.
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