Recently, the Temple Mount Sifting Project announced that they had found hundreds of inlaid tile pieces -- fragments, they believe, of Solomon's Temple (the rebuilt version from Jesus' time).
According to Dr. Gabriel Barkay, co-founder of the Temple Mount Sifting Project, the tiles are 'marble-like' (actually used several different types of stone), and most probably covered the porticos in the Temple, as well as its courtyards. More than 600 fragments have been found so far, and at least 100 are definitively connected to King Herod's time: the half-Jewish monarch who rebuilt the Temple. Frankie Snyder used math calculations to fit the tiles together -- like a giant jigsaw puzzle with no directions.
Here's one set of restored tiles:
photos from the Temple Mount Sifting Project
And here's the cool part, at least to us textile people. Recognize that pattern? (It's Square Within A Square, among other names.) Remember: This is the second Temple. Solomon's Temple was destroyed hundreds of years before. This version was King Herod's, destroyed shortly after Jesus' crucifixion. Jesus himself predicted that not one stone would stand on top of another -- which may have happened in part because the Roman soldiers, led by Titus, were trying to get at gold which melted down between the stones. I could not find a direct reference to this online, but it was horrendous. The Temple, along with Jerusalem, was looted, set on fire and so thoroughly decimated that for years afterward, it seemed as if it had never stood. Any further efforts to rebuild the Temple were stymied...
The Siege and Destruction of Jerusalem by David Roberts (Wikipedia). What a mess.
The problem: Most scholars would posit that the Dome of the Rock, another sacred site, is built directly on top of where the original Temple stood. And there are strong feelings that the Temple must occupy its original site -- or it isn't 'right.' But did it?
Interestingly enough, the tile pieces are geometric, and correspond to the Roman measurement of a foot: 29.6 cm. (In other words, constructed in Roman style.) And:
This style of flooring is consistent with those found in Herod’s palaces at Masada, Herodian, and Jericho among others, as well as in majestic palaces and villas in Italy, also attributed to the time of Herod.
Also from the Temple Mount Sifting Project blogpost on the subject:
The possibility that large expanses of the Temple Mount during the Second Temple were covered with opus sectile flooring was first raised by archaeologist Assaf Avraham in 2007, director of the Jerusalem Walls National Park with the Israel Nature and Parks Authority.
Avraham’s theory was based on a description given by the Romano-Jewish historian Josephus (1st Century CE) who wrote, “… the uncovered [Temple Mount courtyard] was completely paved with stones of various types and colors…” (The Jewish War 5:2) Additionally, Talmudic literature records the magnificent construction of the Temple Mount, describing rows of marble in different colors – green, blue and white.
So possibilities could go either way. (I do find it interesting, though, that the tiles excavated so far are NOT "green, blue and white." Maybe they're from the courtyard, instead.)
Full report's here. Check out the video. (Not the photo below -- you'll have to click on the report link at left to access it.) You'll see more tile designs, including stars and compass rose designs. These would make a wonderful sampler quilt with an interesting historical connection.
They're probably using the doorbell -- but in Ye Olde Days, provided you had extra income, they used a doorknocker. These ranged from plain to often decorative, and were cast in all kinds of metals, including brass and copper.
I have a thing for hands, and often look for them in charms and graphics.
Like these...
Ivory and bone, in case you're wondering.
Luckily for me, the Victorians were fond of hand motifs, as well.
This one's actually a handle.
But doorknockers come in all sorts of shapes and themes, including animals:
Classical themes:
Medusa, Theseus' archenemy
This one's a "grotesque." (Think gargoyles.) Found in Cartegena, Columbia.
September 11 has come and gone. Fifteen years since that horrible day -- yet we're still here. That in itself says something.
Tomorrow will also mark a year since the climax of a difficult event for me personally. I was being threatened with all sorts of dire consequences, professionally and emotionally. (Now you know why I posted this back then. This post probably makes more sense now. This one, too.) The Brick had just retired, so we were still working out finances. And I wasn't sleeping well at night, in spite of knowing I'd made the right decisions. I wondered if I could ever rise above it. Turns out, with God's help, I could -- and did. At the time it happened, I had no idea that the mid-September salvo would also be the last. None of the threats were ever carried out. Nonetheless, it cost us a great deal to protect ourselves, in case they were. And I lost a good deal of income and momentum because of it. Like the events of 9/11, I will always carry scars from this time. Certainly I'm more cautious, and less trusting. But at least it's in the past.
"Drop dead gorgeous:" a blogpost on the beauty of women -- when they're dead. One of the weirder posts I've ever read, but fascinating. (Early Modern Medicine has this one)
Knocked over by love...and lots of licking! Amanda Holden gets plenty of affection from one of her Animal Hero recipients. Wouldn't you know it, he's a golden Lab. (Take note, Charley and Abby. Sir Charles would do the same.)
"How growing up poor made me a badass." (From Millenial Revolution) Speaking of... Tom Brady and the Manning family read letters from their bright boy, Peyton. Try not to laugh!
The Victorians were very fond of 'oddity cabinets:' decorative pieces that held stuffed animals, birds, unusual rocks...and all sorts of odd pieces. My grandma's house had an upstairs bedroom that intrigued the granddaughter who visited there. Grandma didn't do taxidermy, like her Victorian forbears. But the bookcase held petoskey stones, a chain of links (carved from one piece of wood, I was told), a weird little box (a gift from a missionary), rocks, coins and all sorts of old books.
I enjoyed creeping into the room on hot summer afternoons; it was cool and still, with only the buzzing of an occasional fly in the window. I could handle all the bits and pieces and read to my heart's content -- as long as I was quiet, and no one knew I was in there. A 19th century copy of Jane Eyre still lives on my bookshelf, as a reminder of that magical place.
I have an oddity cabinet now, sort of. Only mine holds a squirrel statue, amethyst crystals, a copper Statue of Liberty, little boxes filled with beads, sequins and spools of thread...and most of our DVD collection. The quilter must be vying with the packrat.
You could collect items for your own oddity cabinet -- or make one, instead: a 'sort-of' taxidermy display cabinet. Thanks to Knock Off Decor, it's surprisingly easy.