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  shipwreck appearing onneck of pot

I am the tomb of a mariner shipwrecked.
Sail on:
Even while we died the others rode out the storm.

–Theodoridas of Syracuse,
The Greek Anthology

Consider sailors, adventuring over unchartered waters,
by unmapped cliffs. A rock-cairn, just discernable
at ridge-horizon, does not invite turning to shore to read
an inscription. Credible readers of this funereal signal would sail out, away, avoiding for the moment the reef which surprised its speaker into a watery death. Passing on,
not home, the true adventurer would seek a later death, leaving a further marker to those who follow.

Adventurers must know how to read, not what to read. Notable among such adventurers is Odysseus, perhaps
the sole survivor of such a shipwreck. Fame recalls,
in addition to death in battle, the call of adventure. Odysseus, crafting the fall of Troy in the Trojan Horse, alone of all his crew, survives to return home. Along rocky coasts,  over uncharted waters in changing climates, he is the consummate adventurer, the discovery of new lands, new cultures, new experiences. For most, the cost of this route to fame will be death by drowning. Greek appreciation of the bottle neck opened for our view would include the selection of flesh first favored by the fish feeding on drowning sailors, as one survivor, perhaps Odysseus, for the moment, still floats atop his keel, drifting on to new challenges. Were he to note a funeral cairn, a heap of stones, raised cliff-high, he would put out to sea, avoiding the rock ledges which undid his predecessor. The funeral marker of his dead companion charts his course away
from present shipwreck, not home to safety, but onward to future peril, but also onward to future fame.

Reinforcing the costs and rewards of adventure, below the shipwreck, hunting dogs converge on their prey. Preceding each meal, soldiers sacrifice, recognizing in the shed blood of the victim, their own desire for life and their own inevitable fall. The Greek word bios suggests the bow as well as life. A Greek hunter, drawing back his arrow, tension fed by flesh, anticipates in the death of his prey, his own eventual dissolution.

Before death, however, the hunter, like Odysseus, inhabits his world with energy and craft. Odysseus,
the man of many turnings, would appreciate the Octopus below, equally at home inside sheltering space, outside with suckers feeling out fresh opportunities, or in inky darkness retreating back to shelter.

 

Octopus pot, Crete, 1600bc