Millions of ancient, handmade bricks. I'm sure the Romans builders must have known processes to speed the work; molds, patterns or cutting techniques? But I was fascinated. I loved the color--a deeper red than these photos appear.
Texture. Really, I was looking for a thumb print or other marks of the Ancient human makers of these bricks.
Uniqueness. Each brick is a creation unto itself.
Some of the bricks appeared more uniform; better quality than others. Like all things people make.
Interesting surface on the one above. Also, I looked for a scratched-in message. Didn't find any, but didn't look all day; spent a good half-hour examining bricks.
Never meant to be seen: the bricks were meant to be covered with facing stone like marble; long gone.
Like tiny caves in landscape. It's only a matter of scale?
Eventually, I had to stop looking for the Roman Slave "Kilroy" and go on to the Museum.
Often, I am the shallowest of tourists: ask my husband; all I want to do is go find a cup of coffee.
Other times, I obsess over some small detail, important only to me.
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