I have spent a lot of my adult life in museums and even did an exam on museums for my Ph.D. That is very strange to me because I remember hating museums as a child. I could not understand why my parents would want to walk slowly, standing briefly in front of each one. I didn't understand what I was looking at and was overwhelmed by so much art, all of which demanded attention and concentration. My childhood strategy was to find a fountain and either throwing coins in or taking them out, depending on how well chaperoned we were. It wasn't until college that I learned about historical context and comparative art, and I began to enjoy museums. Archaeological museums, though, were a different beast. Archaeological museums in the 1990s didn't seem to be built for visitors, they seemed to be built for archaeologists. They were small, dusty cases organized by period and filled with pottery or metal bits, labeled with catalog numbers and little else. So I developed a new strategy, and started my own little comparative studies of whatever caught my attention: mostly animals, gorgons, Roman glass and jewelry.
Being distracted by my battles with the gods, I took just a handful of photos on our trip to Kefalonia, Ithaka, and Olympia. When looking at them, I realized I'd reverted back to those interests. And so here you are: Chickens of Olympia.
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| Gryphon heads |
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| Gryphon |
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| I am certain that this is a votive whale in spite of my team of experts who insist it is a fish. The size, people, the size. It dwarfs the horses. |
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| A badly photographed gorgon |
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| One of the two statues that had their own room: my enemy, Hermes. |
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| The second statue in her own room: Winged Nike. |
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