Leaving Israel?

Image from the bottom of Tell Goded

I went to Israel when I was three years old. My mom stayed in America as she had just given birth to my little sister, Vanessa. I don't have too many memories from that trip other then some flashes of the hotel lobby, the market in Jerusalem and the dead sea where my cousin splashed me by accident and boy did it sting.

In 2005, I returned on a Birthright Israel sponsored trip. It is almost too magical an experience to summarize. Our first evening we went to Tell Go'ded ( go'ded hill) a site of some caves that were a hiding place for the Jews during the Bar Kochba revolt (132-136)against the Roman empire. As the rest of my group desceneded into the caves I decided to stay above ground and to the dismay of our guard wandered off. I walked up the hill and as the sun was setting I was called to this tree growing out from a natural well. As I knelt down by the tree I had the undeniable feeling that I had been there before and that my soul was finally home.

This year in Jewish reckoning 5769, I have spent 6 months in Israel. I have fallen in love three times in this country- two of those times have been with men . My other love is the story which continues to unfold of loving the land.

On May 25th ,I awoke with a deep deep feeling of sadness. As I prepared to leave for the airport I understood that my sadness was about the land that I was flying away from. As the plane took off and I imagined it surrounded by white protective light as I have been taught, I could not shake the image of roots dangling below the bottom of the plane as we flew across the water.

God's Tears

While walking through the old city of Tfzat someone asked me if I knew what all the bullet holes were.

"God's tears " I replied.

Sometimes it is hard to believe that such a tiny country has so many different realities juxtaposed. I had an acclaimed Vedic ( Eastern ie: India) astrologer once tell me that all the different lay lines of the planets cross in Israel. This happens no where else on Earth and creates a sort of hotbed of energies. This is one understanding of how such a

little piece of land has such a big story.

The working title for the mixed-media painting in this entry is "The Circus-Tel Aviv". The vibrancy, the sunset, the date palms, and the style are all evocative of this little city on the sea that never sleeps.

Tzfat

Children creating a fire in the holy city of Tzfat for the Lag b'Omer holiday. On the left was the fire outside the Breslov Shul and it was beautiful.

The time of counting the Omer begins at Pesach (passover ) and was an ancient Barley rite. It is now come to represent a deep journey of personal transformation and preperation for receiving of the Torah in Sinai on the holiday of Shavuot. Lag b'Omer is the 33rd day of the Omer , the only day when celebrations are permitted during the 7 weeks.

Oh My

My apartment is great. It is on the block I wanted to live. Rehov Bograshov - center of tel aviv. It’s the penthouse suite with a private roof and a view of the sea if you crane your neck to the left.

My landlord and I have taken turns giving eachother intense amounts of stress and for anyone who knows about Israelei landlords ( they are notoriously greedy and unyeidling) I have done a pretty good job of keeping things even. He runs an illegal casino on the third floor of the building.

Growing up in New York I am no stranger to diversity - in fact I welcome it. When I first looked at the building I was shown an apartment on another floor. I really didn’t think much at all of the fact that everyone on the floor was transgenedered, however, when one tennat showed me her apartment the notoriously red light in both the bedroom and the lving room made me wonder.

I kept my suspicions to myself. So what? So maybe some people were making some money from their boudoirs...then I met my neighbor. A sweet Russian- Israeli girl ,she introduced herself and when my boyfriend asked what she did and she said “model” my suspicions were confiremed. The girl is pretty but she is not even tall eough for catalogue..So I knew pretty clearly that model was code word for escort. I figured as long as she wasn't taking her work home with her, I was fine .

So in the spirit of all the entrepreneurial talent in my building - I am pimping my own work. I am currently looking for spaces in major cities ( NY, LA, etc.)to exhibit. Also most of the work on pictured on this site is for sale.

xoxo

p.s. the tone of this post is tongue and cheek though some of the subject matter touches on some issues. I don’t want to belittle the very real issue of the slave (sex) trade happening and in alarming amounts in Israel right now. To find out more or what you can do to help go to http://www.antislavery.org/

Salamanders

Salamanders

I wanted to write a poem about memory and how it was to visit my grandmother’s house every year; How the salamanders would run across the stones to the hidden grass patches and I would chase after they trying to catch them - Success once in a rare while .

The salamanders - as metaphor for memory and time. The distance traveled to reach my grandmother in Palm Beach, now with a hearing aid. Her husband dead and gone 15 years and me not married , not with children , not yet, but almost.

I cannot do it. So instead, I write what it would be like if I could. The salamanders remain but they or rather their descendants have grown much larger then I remember. I have seen them today, scurrying around the pool.