Cave Creations

Archaeologists and spelunkers have discovered many examples of ancient cave art created by our human precursors, deep in the inky blackness of caverns. These drawings were done on the walls of the caves, tens of thousands of years ago.

Those who are privileged to look upon these drawings are profoundly impressed and emotionally moved by their quality. The artists obviously revered the animals they drew, and rendered stunning likenesses that are deeply stirring. They knew their subjects well—which is attested to by the realism of their work. Some of these primeval masters even used the undulating contours of the cave walls to accentuate the bulge of a deer's chest, or the muscular projection of a bear's shoulder.

It is amazing that they could have accomplished their creations, deep within the pitch-black recesses of these caves. They entered spaces that were in total darkness, bringing in some form of light (most likely oil lamps), in order to illuminate their rocky palettes. The work had to have been a sacred task, which was also quite dangerous.

Why did they retreat so far back into these caves? Were they looking to create art that would last thousands of years? That's not very likely—given their understanding of time. Was it because they could safely compose their works and expect them not to be defaced? Why would they create such magnificent drawings, that would be seen only by a tiny select few? These were not creations that were for display—but for very private purposes—even sacred intentions.

I find it fascinating that these cave artists never created drawings of humans—except in the form of primitive stick figures. While they drew beautiful and vivid portrayals of animals that create strong emotions in the viewer, they seem to have ignored humans, other than applying hand stencils. What a strong contrast to today's obsession that sees people constantly taking selfie photos, wherever they go. While contemporary humans seem enraptured by their own images, the ancient cave artists featured the animals of their world.

This seems to say something interesting about our modern priorities. Will future humans, some 40,000 years from now, excavate specimens of our world and ponder why we chose to be so narcissistic? Of course, this assumes that our ephemeral creations would last that long—an unlikely premise. More likely, those future archaeologists will be discovering our plastic trash.