in the bitter watches of the night

the bottom and side borders of the finished piece are tablet-woven with a mixture of linen and mercerized cotton. the sides are a classic meander motif, while the bottom border includes the "X" square from the skyphos itself. the bottom border was woven directly onto the piece using the remainder of the warp beneath penelope's feet (tablet draft for anyone interested—I designed it to be twist-neutral and everything). the side borders are sewn on because I didn't set up the side borders when I started the project, but ellen harlizius-klück previously executed a stunning version here that has the side borders woven in, as well as a really helpful video on this technique.

I was originally planning to leave part of the black warp threads unwoven to serve as penelope's warp, the way I did a few years ago with the amasis painter vase:

but I couldn't figure out how to execute it well in this version, especially since I was doing double-weave and not tapestry. perhaps next time! overall, this was a complicated and fun project as a first warp-weighted loom piece. I learned a lot of important lessons—chief among them being to actually calculate warp lengths instead of eyeballing them and to increase the loom weights on the warps for better tension. unfortunately, I also learned I want to build a large warp-weighted loom (the one I have now was made by jennifer marcus at fiber paintings studio and it is lovely, but I would like to weave larger pieces.)

the original pot also features telemachus standing over a grieving penelope (I had room only for his spear), perhaps a reference to the scene in book 1 when he reprimands his mother and orders her back upstairs:

Odysseus was not the only one who did not come back home again from Troy. Many were lost. Go in and do your work. Stick to the loom and distaff. Tell your slaves to do their chores as well. It is for men to talk, especially me. I am the master. οὐ γὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς οἶος ἀπώλεσε νόστιμον ἦμαρ ἐν Τροίῃ, πολλοὶ δὲ καὶ ἄλλοι φῶτες ὄλοντο. ἀλλ᾽ εἰς οἶκον ἰοῦσα τὰ σ᾽ αὐτῆς ἔργα κόμιζε, ἱστόν τ᾽ ἠλακάτην τε, καὶ ἀμφιπόλοισι κέλευε ἔργον ἐποίχεσθαι: μῦθος δ᾽ ἄνδρεσσι μελήσει πᾶσι, μάλιστα δ᾽ ἐμοί: τοῦ γὰρ κράτος ἔστ᾽ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.

Od. 1.354–359. Emily Wilson translation.

Details of a recipe book.

All the details in tiny glass beads.

Love the pie in the oven.

Love this so much.

No wonder it took 5 yrs.

Paleontologists counter that the incentive to sell specimens to the highest bidder and appeal to high-net-worth collectors actively undermines science every step of the way. That begins at excavation, with commercial outfits that take the fossils out of the ground but fail to exhaustively document the geological context in which a fossil was found, which is essential for understanding the age of the organism, how it died, and the ecosystem it inhabited. Mounting the bones for artistic display makes them impossible to study using modern techniques such as computed tomographic imaging, which can reveal hidden features of fossils noninvasively.

Paleontologists also argue that the auction firms play it fast and loose with science to market the fossils in a way that may make them more appealing to untrained buyers. In the case of Gus, Sotheby’s describes holes in the jaw and elsewhere on the specimen as tyrannosaurid bite marks—signs that Gus might have battled with or been scavenged by his own kind. The description does not offer any evidence to support this interpretation of the holes, nor does it mention alternative explanations for such damage.

It’s a dramatic story, but it’s probably wrong, according to Stuart Sumida, a paleontologist at California State University, San Bernardino. Puncture marks are irregularly shaped and have splintered fractures around the edges. The holes on Gus’ bones, in contrast, are perfectly round and smooth-edged. Holes like these are common on tyrannosaur bones and have been previously hypothesized to be the result of infections. “It’s much sexier to say they’re puncture wounds, but this isn’t how puncture wounds look,” Sumida says of the hole in Gus’ jaw. “T. rex probably just had really bad breath.”

When asked by WIRED about the origin of the bite-mark claim, Hatton replied, “The bite marks are very clear, and are not all straight punctures but lateral bites where you can clearly see the shape of the tooth. You can also tell from the edges of the hole whether the break is clean, or if the hole is gradual (which would be more likely the result of a parasitic or other infection that gradually and evenly eats the bone)." She did not indicate where this analysis came from.

But the central issue with auctioning fossils, researchers contend, is that when specimens end up in private hands, they become unavailable for scientific study. Even if a private collector loans a fossil out for display or study at a museum, as happened last year when the American Museum of Natural History in New York City secured a four-year loan of Griffin’s Stegosaurus, such an arrangement violates a central tenet of paleontology: Scientific reproducibility requires that researchers other than those conducting the original examination have access to those same fossils in perpetuity.

That approach allows paleontologists to validate findings, test new hypotheses, and build knowledge of the past. To ensure access, fossils must be held in public repositories on a permanent basis. So vital is this covenant that established scientific journals won’t publish a study on a specimen that isn’t in the custody of a publicly accessible museum, Sumida explains.

Everything scientists have been able to piece together from fossils about prehistory—from the origin of multicellular life to the dawn of humankind—rests on this system.

“A scientifically important fossil isn't just a static object; it's a permanent source of data that future generations of scientists will study with tools that haven't even been invented yet—but only if the fossil remains in the public trust,” says Kristi Curry Rogers, a paleontologist at Macalester College. “Think about all the cool discoveries that have been made in the last 50 years about dinosaur diets, body temperatures, coloration, reproduction, vocalization, neurobiology—none of these discoveries would have been possible if the fossils had disappeared into private collections."

Sales of fossils to private individuals in the US won’t stop, Sumida acknowledges. So he and Rogers are taking a different tack to help keep important fossils in science’s fold. In their respective roles as president and vice president of the Society of Vertebrate Paleontology, they are working to set up the society to act as a liaison between private collectors and museums. Their goal is to persuade private collectors to donate the fossils they buy to science museums right after the gavel falls rather than keeping them as trophy acquisitions.

“When it comes to these public auctions of our shared history, the best outcome is when those with the means to acquire an extraordinary fossil choose to immediately place it in the public trust, where everyone benefits," Rogers says.

Private buyers can avoid the bad PR that comes from opposition to these sales by making their purchase anonymously, which could hinder efforts to persuade them to engage in philanthropy. But the Society of Vertebrate Paleontology is hoping that if it can convince even just a few known individuals to donate their fossils to science, they, in turn, will influence others to do the same.

The society is in talks with some collectors and museums, though Sumida declined to share specific details. It doesn’t have a plan in place to approach Gus’ buyer, but it might develop one depending on who purchases the fossil.