Moon Rising

The Tu B'Shvat waning moon
Already lit our full moon celebration
Dried fruit and copious wine pushing away winter
As we feel our rising sap
Ready to bring forth our buds to fruition
Blooming flowers with nectar to be sucked by passing bees
And the leaves fall again

But not yet
Cold winds and clarity across the Kinneret
The lights of the Golan
As I adjust my scarf round my neck

Moon on my shoulder
Moon Rising
You have touched me like this before
Across my cheek you brush me
and catch in a flash the rims of my glasses

Ah but here in Safat you are
Long views of distant hills
Give you time and you will light the whole wadi
Later at night and even later when the street lights are off
you will look towards me not behind me
The wadi will be back lit
And then, I with this light will awaken, get up and go

Is it time for a new profile

Is it time for a new profile?


It would never fly but it would be fun to try.


Little boy of almost 57 years
Carries his hurt in armour on indepencence and competence
Impossibly self sufficent with little to no needs
with a list of wants a mile high and a ton in weight

Wants to meet a strong lady who can love with an open heart
Strong enough not to be afraid of my anger
And wise enough to sooth me

And I am strong from all these broken places
And have spent tears and honesty healing myself
And little by little am letting go of my self criticism
And am learning to temper my clarity of vision with love

I see, and often I think I see too much
And I listen and hear
And I can comfort those place we are scared of.
I don't mind the dark
It only take a crack of light to chase it away

I love profoundly
And who ever will be the lucky woman
I will be the luckier man

Watercolor

The paper is wet, and your brush is wet
And your color flows from one to the other
Let it flow and spread
timing
How wet and how dry
how to let go
And the nuance of your hand
A gesture
focus and stay focused
and breath
And know when to stop

It is quite easy with practice

Grounded but not buried

Head in the clouds and feet on the ground, that is winter in Safat...

There is always a dichotomy between spirituality and the practice of religion
How can a fixed practice create the space for spirituality?
Where is that soaring that I search for, when I get stuck in constant repletion of ritual.
I know what practice allows me.
I learn skills and when I have those skills I no longer need the practice.
And eventually I don't need the skills.
stop! I am going round in circles
No not really.
Technique and practice open ways for me to express myself.
I learn skills thru this.
But the point of expression, I no longer use them, I just do.
The form becomes secondary and even lost in the place of doing.
I have the discipline, but do not want to be stuck there.
I want to be in the place of expression
Pure expression
No thought
Not even knowing how I got there
that is why I paint
I prefer to paint than to daven
I get to a place of being far clearer than thru ritual
Where is that place?
I don't know
But that is where I want to be.
Non verbal expression
Light and dark, and color
Urgent color, focused on timing
Playing with the water on my brush and the water on the paper
That balance

return

hello, it has been a long time

Hello

This is a first page.
Just to say hello.
More to come .


I will need to figure out how to use this.

See you all later.