Petroglyphs and pictographs are pecked or seeped into rocks all over the West. It is the tenacity of the marks that pulls me in. Chipped lines differentiate themselves from the surface of rock as do lines of pigment and urine or blood that have bound themselves to stone. The lines seem inconsequential even temporal, yet they remain. I’ve not thought much about the meaning of the symbols, but Mary Clearman Blew describes a broken circle surrounded by another circle with a triangular head that resembles a uroboros - the tail eating snake, or the Eastern interlocked Yin and Yang, or the Greek Alpha and Omega, or even the mathematical infinity symbol. I have never related my dual life to anything so lofty as archetypal symbology, but maybe it is the simple structures of living that inspire lofty concepts. Perhaps there is a connection between my summer/winter life and what someone long before me committed to stone.