In
my eighth-grade art class I made a sculpture that resembled these
recently found skulls.
Especially
the full cranial reconstruction (on the right).
My
mother thought I was Picasso or Rodin (I'm not sure she knew who
Rodin was).
She
loved my ugly, little sculpture that was supposed to be a
self-portrait.
I
think she discarded all my personal things except this one little
sculpture.
Archaeologists will have to do some digging to find out where it is now.
Man's
itch to find out his origins (and his rib-mate woman's origins) is
never-ending.
I
don't have this particular psoriasis.
I
am more concerned with modern man and his existence right now---which
seems more and more precarious.
Who
really needs to know about Neanderthals or the evolution of Homo
Sapiens when we have our Netflix and YouTube?
IT'S
ABOUT RENEWABLE RESOURCES AND OLD BONES
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