The Löwenmensch (lion-man) figurine, is a prehistoric ivory sculpture discovered in Hohlenstein-Stadel cave in 1939. Determined by carbon dating of the layer in which it was found to be between 35,000 and 41,000 years old, it is one of the oldest-known example of an artistic representation and the oldest confirmed statue ever discovered.
—Wikipedia
He sits cross-legged in the slant-light that cleaves a planein the cave floor, a linethat recedes with the sununtil he, too, must recede, deeper,into the limestone throat,to position himselfin the light of a firetended by a nursing female anda lame male-child whoreclines against the fuliginous wallof a side chamber, pipingon a bird-bone flute,a resonant acoustic responserounded against the stonedome of the ceiling intoan ambient drone thatsoothes him as he takes up his toolsand resumes his task, focusingon that which cannot beseen, that which must bedrawn forth in a therianthropic fusionthrough the mind’s aperture,lodged there, held, the unseenrefusing to be un-seenthrough an unmeasured month of suns,as the maker, excused from the hunt,charged with making,scrapes and carves with lithic flakesa mammoth tusk, his handscalloused, cramping, cut,his blood staining the ivory,his finger joints achingthrough the rhythm ofduplicate movement,transformed by it, made strongeras the figure’s arms emerge, slowly,from its sides, the frictionof flint burin displacinga fine trickle of pungenttusk-dust that coats his thighsand the scrap of auroch hideon which he sits, the patientabrasion of the ivorya transference of tactilewarmth, the first internalstirrings of the object’s power, untilat last the head crownsinto his hands, felid, the alertears angled to hear his voiceand the voices of his band, asthis imagined thing,this token, this lion-man becomes complete, preparedto inspire a pristine awe,passed, as it will be, from handto hand through huddled generations,eyes flickering in the glowof night-fires, adjuvantat the seam between realms,its surface polished by contactwith flesh, a substantial sign of mind,yet transitory as the blood-spoor of a vanished kinsmantracked to its terminusin steppe grass, realas the tale that springsfrom such beholding,and its molded telling, and the fearin the belief that one can speakto a possibly appeasable world.