Tartessia or Tarshish is considered the first civilization in the West ruled by the legendary Argantonio and located, it is believed, to the south of the Iberian Peninsula, on the riverbed of the Guadalquivir. The echo of a wonderful city, rich in agriculture, livestock and precious metals (silver and gold), is collected in texts, chronicles, stories, biblical episodes, myths and legends. It was the scene of Nórax, Gargoris, Habis and also Hercules, who traveled there, to the Garden of the Hesperides to finish his work, killing the mythological king of Tartessian, the three-headed giant Geryon.

Explorers, archaeologists and researchers continue to search, unsuccessfully, for this lost kingdom of Tartessos, leaving those vestiges in the collective imagination of a unique and mysterious city, of a cultured and happy people, perhaps fused with the Phoenician civilization or extinguished by the Carthaginians. Although it is possible that the classical texts and the sages warn us about the cyclical history of the world... when the very Atlantis that Plato tells us, that wise and advanced humanity was annihilated through a great catastrophe, an implacable divine punishment...

Image: Bronze Carriazo (Astarte, marshes & estuaries' goddesses).

The representation of the wolf in Iberian iconography, as a cult totemic animal, with strong roots in pastoral populations, related to myths and religious symbolism, represents ardor, heroism and warrior mysticism. Combat scenes between wolf and man are common, some symbolize death threat, lineage of power, protection in combat ... and the cult of the night, the path or initiation rite, in the passage to the afterlife, lupus as a guide in the afterlife ...

So recurrent in Iberian art, we find it in the sculptural ensembles of "El Pajarillo", in the Elche-Archena style ceramics, in the mints of the Iltirta and Iltiraka mint, in the "Copa del Carnassier", in the "Torso de Guerrero de la Alcudia"... and in the "Pátera de Perotito" where a young man, his hands are raised in a ritual position, is devoured by the wolf, merging with him, in his transit with the beyond ...

Because the wolf is also death, dying to live, dying to resurrect, when we are eaten we will renew our spirit, as a different being that is reborn as a new man. A journey of the initiate to the world of spirits, a descent to the bottom of the caverns, twinned with a wolf guide who will transfer us his great qualities...

In our eagerness to recover the ancestral memory of ancient peoples, we are trying to collect as much graphic material as possible about the Iberians found in ceramics, vessels or glasses, found in deposits in Azaila de Teruel, in San Miguel de Liria, in Tosal de San Miguel, in Acudía de Elche, in the Serreta de Alcoy, in Verdolay, in Archena ... in so many places on the peninsula, to recreate it digitally, trying to be as precise and rigorous as possible in that recreation process to contribute our little granite of sand in the recovery and dissemination of the Iberian Culture.

How could it be otherwise, we begin this new one with the spectacular discovery, found in the South Countryside in an olive grove of the Rambla, of an Iberian lioness - it is still to be determined, but everything indicates that it is so, those last fierce lions of the caverns that survived until their contact with the Iberian people— along with a ram that they have captured and are devouring. They place it between the 5th and 4th centuries BC. C, and apparently it could express a funerary symbol where the injured animal would correspond to the soul of the deceased person.

In the Illustration it can be read in a non-dual system of Iberian signs: León Ibérico

"He was not the most honest or the most pious man, but he was a brave man" P. Reverte.

If you lived dangerously and your life was hanging by a thread, if you defied authority, defending your reason and rights with the proud point of your sword, if you sacrificed yourself and were generous and human, if you were fearless, reckless, arrogant, brave, adventurous, seductive, rogue, loyal, if you were capable of the most heroic but also the meanest actions, if you were guided by your code of honour, if you sought glory on the margins of society and the law, if you lost your innocence in the face of the harsh reality of mud and blood, and if, disenchanted, everyone abandoned you. .. then you were probably an Old Thirdsman, a tired hero in rusty armour, a forgotten anti-hero like a cursed Alatriste.

The irreverent and revolutionary Old skull, the spirit of fun. Skulls were used in the old traditions of satirical and ridiculous poems making social criticism and protest, dates 500 years ago. Also had been used in different plays like the ”Dance of Death” in the 14th century. People needed satire to help deal with the grim world (plagues and diseases) around them. But the symbol emerged in Mexico as a means of expression especially used with roguish and ironic tones against the nobles and powerful of the viceroy times. It is also used during the celebration of the day of the death.

"Only dead fish follow the stream of the river".

Swimming against the current is an odyssey in an open world where paradoxically there is more access to information but at the same time we are more controlled. Reflections of those dystopian universes — riddled with environmental disasters and cataclysms — from science fiction novels have come true. But there is still hope. There are spaces of freedom to ambush, where dissidents and freethinkers can react and rebel against the flashes of tyranny, censorship and dehumanization present in society. In some remote and lost place the Lineage of the free will always resist.

A legend from New Zealand tells the story of Tamanuitera (The Sun in Maori) He rode so fast through the mountain ranges of the sky that man barely had time to perceive it, until one day Maui, the intrepid and ingenious demigod of the sea, braided a lock of his sister’s hair along with green thread to sew it as a net, then he went to the ends of the earth to capture the Sun. Once there, after a tedious fight, Tamanuitera promised to pass through the skies more slowly to give the men time to enjoy and take advantage of its important benefits. Some say that the rays of the Sun are the magic ropes that once tried to catch Tamanuitera.

In Maori culture the Sun represents heat and energy, eternity as a source of light, intelligence, leadership, wealth, greatness, passion, desire, determination in life, power and protection.

"He was not the most honest or the most pious man, but he was a brave man" P. Reverte.

If you lived dangerously and your life was hanging by a thread, if you defied authority, defending your reason and rights with the proud point of your sword, if you sacrificed yourself and were generous and human, if you were fearless, reckless, arrogant, brave, adventurous, seductive, rogue, loyal, if you were capable of the most heroic but also the meanest actions, if you were guided by your code of honour, if you sought glory on the margins of society and the law, if you lost your innocence in the face of the harsh reality of mud and blood, and if, disenchanted, everyone abandoned you. .. then you were probably an Old Thirdsman, a tired hero in rusty armour, a forgotten anti-hero like a cursed Alatriste.

"He was not the most honest or the most pious man, but he was a brave man" P. Reverte.

If you lived dangerously and your life was hanging by a thread, if you defied authority, defending your reason and rights with the proud point of your sword, if you sacrificed yourself and were generous and human, if you were fearless, reckless, arrogant, brave, adventurous, seductive, rogue, loyal, if you were capable of the most heroic but also the meanest actions, if you were guided by your code of honour, if you sought glory on the margins of society and the law, if you lost your innocence in the face of the harsh reality of mud and blood, and if, disenchanted, everyone abandoned you. .. then you were probably an Old Thirdsman, a tired hero in rusty armour, a forgotten anti-hero like a cursed Alatriste.

You were a humble peasant who barely knew how to read & write. In your native Domremí countryside you heard voices & embarked on an uncertain destiny to liberate France from the English. Together with your faithful soldiers, you raised your banner & launched yourself in suicidal acts until liberating the siege of Orleans & crowning your dolphin. That was your glorious rise that preceded your terrible end. They betrayed you & accused you of heresy. A scorching fire ended your life.

Were you perhaps God's chosen one or a madwoman driven by schizophrenia & hallucinations? Be that as it may, you were the maiden acclaimed by your people, the fervent heroine that you faced against all the powers of the earth until you almost won the Hundred Years War. Today Joan, your name is already a legend.

We are the horsemen who ride with beasts of pipes and steel based on black fuel, in this hostile land, the roads are nightmares, the cities are deserts and humanity feeds on men... the leaders cannot stop this avalanche, the storm from fear…

Driven by this confusion full of frustrated dreams, we unscrupulously take revenge on the burdens, we will annihilate with our sword, with hunger, with death and with the beasts...

The great earthquake dyes the sun black and the blood moon, the stars fall from the sky...

The great day has come... in the midst of this chaos hope will resurface...

Don't you want to ride like a horseman from the Apocalypse to hell itself carrying this iron cross? Discover new horizons and new worlds, cross the wild nature flying free to the ends of the Universe. Be bold, break barriers, the rules if necessary, help your people and do not forget that the trophy you carry is a symbol of loyalty, companionship, courage, rebellion and freedom.

We are the horsemen who ride with beasts of pipes and steel based on black fuel, in this hostile land, the roads are nightmares, the cities are deserts and humanity feeds on men... the leaders cannot stop this avalanche, the storm from fear…

Driven by this confusion full of frustrated dreams, we unscrupulously take revenge on the burdens, we will annihilate with our sword, with hunger, with death and with the beasts...

The great earthquake dyes the sun black and the blood moon, the stars fall from the sky...

The great day has come... in the midst of this chaos hope will resurface...

You were a humble peasant who barely knew how to read & write. In your native Domremí countryside you heard voices & embarked on an uncertain destiny to liberate France from the English. Together with your faithful soldiers, you raised your banner & launched yourself in suicidal acts until liberating the siege of Orleans & crowning your dolphin. That was your glorious rise that preceded your terrible end. They betrayed you & accused you of heresy. A scorching fire ended your life.

Were you perhaps God's chosen one or a madwoman driven by schizophrenia & hallucinations? Be that as it may, you were the maiden acclaimed by your people, the fervent heroine that you faced against all the powers of the earth until you almost won the Hundred Years War. Today Joan, your name is already a legend.

"Only dead fish follow the stream of the river".

Swimming against the current is an odyssey in an open world where paradoxically there is more access to information but at the same time we are more controlled. Reflections of those dystopian universes — riddled with environmental disasters and cataclysms — from science fiction novels have come true. But there is still hope. There are spaces of freedom to ambush, where dissidents and freethinkers can react and rebel against the flashes of tyranny, censorship and dehumanization present in society. In some remote and lost place the Lineage of the free will always resist.

You were a humble peasant who barely knew how to read & write. In your native Domremí countryside you heard voices & embarked on an uncertain destiny to liberate France from the English. Together with your faithful soldiers, you raised your banner & launched yourself in suicidal acts until liberating the siege of Orleans & crowning your dolphin. That was your glorious rise that preceded your terrible end. They betrayed you & accused you of heresy. A scorching fire ended your life.

Were you perhaps God's chosen one or a madwoman driven by schizophrenia & hallucinations? Be that as it may, you were the maiden acclaimed by your people, the fervent heroine that you faced against all the powers of the earth until you almost won the Hundred Years War. Today Joan, your name is already a legend.

"Only dead fish follow the stream of the river".

Swimming against the current is an odyssey in an open world where paradoxically there is more access to information but at the same time we are more controlled. Reflections of those dystopian universes — riddled with environmental disasters and cataclysms — from science fiction novels have come true. But there is still hope. There are spaces of freedom to ambush, where dissidents and freethinkers can react and rebel against the flashes of tyranny, censorship and dehumanization present in society. In some remote and lost place the Lineage of the free will always resist.

You were a humble peasant who barely knew how to read & write. In your native Domremí countryside you heard voices & embarked on an uncertain destiny to liberate France from the English. Together with your faithful soldiers, you raised your banner & launched yourself in suicidal acts until liberating the siege of Orleans & crowning your dolphin. That was your glorious rise that preceded your terrible end. They betrayed you & accused you of heresy. A scorching fire ended your life.

Were you perhaps God's chosen one or a madwoman driven by schizophrenia & hallucinations? Be that as it may, you were the maiden acclaimed by your people, the fervent heroine that you faced against all the powers of the earth until you almost won the Hundred Years War. Today Joan, your name is already a legend.