Archive for April, 2011

You may consider this one as a special issue, since it is mainly a book report…

It is quite rare a book takes my breath away, last time it happened was with Salinger’s nine stories, so it took me some time to catch my breath and write this post.
 The book is by no means translatable to another language, a virtuous performance of words on paper. (as someone toying with B&W sketches, I’m stunned by this black print on white paper artwork) 
The book’s name is כפור (NUNTIA), which may be read in Hebrew as frost or atonement, and it unclear which is the ‘real’ intent – if any.
 A mix of futuristic Religious jews, a yearning for a dead sister that parted leaving a huge hole in the heart, Poetry,  Cinema, A detective story and Judaism as a practice of segregation.
 But mainly the book is a concentrated of love to language, without any פretense that even scratches the author’s capability.
 Shimon Adaf changes scales from Jewish-Aramic to modern-Hebrew to Futuristic-Religious-Hebrew, and writes poetry that scratches your (my) bones.  
 Is there a conflict between religion and art? is religion afraid of proximity to God?
It is a book one needs (but can’t) read s-l-o-w-l-y, and every time I had to re-read a phrase to better understand it I was thankful.  
The drawing is a drawing of a ‘dos’ waiting for our flight, that was late, I hesitated what to draw with this post: angels, people, religious-jews, letters, or plain nothing 
 But it is really the right background.
Signing off,


On the flight, the boy said, dad, can you draw the clouds?
Not that easy, I replied, show me. 
So he did.

Oh, and the heavenly music has its own story.
At the airport, I asked an Oud-carrying-dude to teach me all the Oud Torah standing on one foot.
after he did, he played me this piece as a present (that I am delighted to share with you), he was accompanied by another musician, a ‘dos’ sitting right in front of us (first row center), listening attentively, while noisily eating crunchy stuff from a really-really-noisy plastic bag. 
The performance was disrupted by the airport announcement that the plane is ready for boarding.

They (actually he) say a man is made in the mold of his birthplace, so coming back and seeing the mold changed and so did you, but still you both stayed the same is quite interesting (if you are interested…)

Some shots of my molding-place:

(This time more than 5, and more than 2)

Root-beer for the firstime.
Once upon a time, there was a peace-project, three skyscrapers – a Circle (Islam) a Square (Christianity) and a triangle (Judaism), called towers of peace, but Ego is bigger than idealism – hence today they are Towers of Azrieli.
The cat feeding lady (shhhh, don’t tell anyone)
Cats are fed up.
She said – Didn’t recognize you without the hat, be careful when cars cross

In this picture there hides a huge black statue, can you find it and color it rust?

A street lamp emitting dark rust, used to adore it, and still do.

Paris 3, Erol 1.

Posted: April 18, 2011 in bourse, paperbag, Paris
Some say cars are cars, (or a rose is a rose),

But cars (especially polished chrome) also blend in, stand out, and reflect their surrounding.
As part of the cityscape of Paris, here are some self portraits and city portrait
 attempts with cars, train windshields, and a plain mirror.

The capital P.

Posted: April 3, 2011 in 22, galerie, guitar, Paris, pencil
Fancy some Paris flavor?
Here goes.
(Only one music piece this time, OK?)

just to clear out some ambiguity – A glass roof inside a gallery: