Israel, Part 2: Jerusalem

“Jerusalem is the only ancient city I’ve ever seen whose antiquities are not on
display as relics, but are in daily use…”
- Saul Bellow 

How do you see Jerusalem if you only have a day? Give it your best shot and hope you have a chance to come back again someday. The thing that amazed me most was how many cultures, religions, and time periods are piled on top of each other in such a small area. I've visited other cities that have Roman ruins and ancient cathedrals, but this is like the epicenter, and it's all still being used by various people. It is an ancient place, but still living and breathing.

We were again traveling with our wonderful, international group of friends, and we had a security guard named Yuad whose job it was to keep us safe and together. Because I was taking pictures, I tended to bring up the rear and wander off.  He of course had to follow me, and before long he was pointing out things that would make a good photo and giving me a history of the area.

Israeli school boys

Even as we walked down the ancient alleyways, the people who lived there went about their daily business: shopping, talking, going to school.

A shopkeeper in the Arab Quarter

We spent quite a bit of time in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Although, or maybe because, I'm not particularly religious, I was able to be an observer of others' faith. It was amazing to see pilgrims from all over the world waiting and worshiping in different areas of the church devoted to different denominations.

Women praying in the Greek Orthodox area near the Golgotha Altar

Pilgrims resting in the Church courtyard

 As we exited the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, I was amazed to emerge into an Orthodox Ethiopian Monastery on the roof of the Church. They claimed the area centuries ago. History piled on top of history, all of it still in use!

Orthodox Ethiopian Monk reading as his laundry dries

Street corner prophet

 While the others stopped for a coffee, a wandered off to talk to this man weaving prayer shawls in front of his shop. We talked for a bit, and then he asked me who the man with me was. I blurted out, "He's my...security friend...he's my body guard!" The weaver, who had a California accent and had lived there for years, thought I was an actress or some other famous person.

Prayer shawl weaver

I took these two photos in different places, but when I looked at them afterward I was struck by how little boys with toy guns grow up to be soldiers with real guns. It made me a bit sad.

As we made our way to the Western Wall Plaza, I found it interesting to watch the faces of both the pilgrims and the vendors.

Vendor tying a Kabbalah red string bracelet to ward off bad luck

When we arrived at the Plaza, we realized there was a military dress rehearsal taking place. The soldiers all looked so young.

Soldiers singing at a military dress rehearsal

Finally we made it to the wall. The men and women approached on either side of a barricade. The women's side was much smaller than the men's, but it was a truly moving experience to watch them touch the wall and pray. Tiny bits of paper with prayer requests were tucked into every crevice between the stones. It was here, more than anywhere else in the city, that I felt the spiritual energy of so many people together, yet each alone in their prayers.

Woman praying at the Western Wall

Israel, Part 1: Epiphany in Tel Aviv

"Life begins at the end of your comfort zone." -- Neale Donald Walsch

About a year ago I was lucky enough to be able to tag along with Tom on a business trip to Israel. I have to admit it is not somewhere I had ever thought about visiting, but I never pass up an opportunity to travel. We were with a lovely, international group of people with whom we had travelled before. While Tom and his cohorts were tending to business affairs, my friends and I were able to explore different areas of Tel Aviv. What a fantastic city! Beautiful, safe, cosmopolitan; truly a wonderful place.

I of course had my trusty camera along, and decided I would do something I've never done before: ask strangers if I could take their picture. This was a huge stretch for me, as I was normally a quiet, reserved person. But something extraordinary happened on that day in Tel Aviv: I connected with people like I never had, striking up conversations, laughing, learning, and sharing something very special.

It began in the neighborhood of Neve Tzedek, when my friend Vivian encouraged me to approach a man sitting at a street corner.

Amnon Nissim, the king of matkot

 Not only did he gladly let me take his picture, but he invited us up to his apartment. His name was Amnon Nissim, and he was very proud of his status of the king of matkot (beach paddleball) for 50 years. His apartment was full of memorabilia: paddles, photographs, newspaper articles. He was a lovely man and it was really special to get a glimpse into this life.

 







Further down the street, we peeked into the doorway of a shop and met two very friendly printers. Since our husbands are both in the printing business, Vivian and I were able to make a connection, and they happily let me take some pictures.

The happy printer

Next we travelled on to Old Jaffa to have lunch and visit the market. As our driver parked the car and we were walking down an alleyway, I looked up and was greeted by some construction workers in a bucket truck. They toasted us as I took their picture.

Cheers!

We had a fantastic Mediterranean meal at a rooftop restaurant. The waiters were great fun; I think I have a friend for life!

After lunch we spent some time in the market. The history and culture were fascinating, and the people so interesting. Emboldened by my successes, I continued to ask people if I could take their pictures. I did get some rejections and rude replies, but by and large people were very willing to be engaged. It was such a wonderful way to be able to strike up a conversation and make a connection.

The rug merchant

This proud and distinguished rug merchant kindly let me photograph him. I just wish I could have a way to give these people a copy of the pictures I took.

Friends

I just loved these two men. They were very friendly and called me over, then said, "Do you like Obama?" Talk about a loaded question! I had no idea how to answer that one in the context of where I was, so I said, "Do you?" It turned out they did, very much (as long as he supports Israel). Then they let me take their picture.

Israeli Soldiers

We met a group of Israeli soldiers relaxing at a cafe. I think some of them weren't too sure if they should be photographed, but they obliged.

At the end of that fantastic day I was in love with the people of Israel, and almost floating on air at how well I had been able to make connections and feel at ease meeting strangers in a strange land, all because the camera around my neck gave me the courage to say hello.

The Sugar Shack

“A sap-run is the sweet good-bye of winter. It is the fruit of the equal marriage of the sun and frost.” -- John Burroughs, Signs and Seasons, 1886

At almost 60 degrees, last Saturday brought a much-needed respite from our frigid February temperatures. I decided to take advantage of the day and visit Clough Valley Maple Syrup, about half a mile down the road from my neighborhood.  I love that, although I live in a suburb, I can easily feel like I am in the country.

I showed up with my camera and started talking to the family who makes the syrup. I find that if you show up with a camera, a smile, and an upbeat attitude, most people are more than willing to talk to you and let you take pictures. The Motz family is one of the oldest families in our area, and has been making maple syrup for many years. I'm not a huge fan of maple syrup, but this is absolutely wonderful.

The Sugar Shack on Clough Pike, with several generations of the Motz family and their dogs enjoying the warm February day.

They tap the maple trees on the hillsides across the creek, using over five miles of tubing to tap over 500 trees.

Bart Motz skims foam from the evaporator pans.  Bart also drives an ice cream truck and raises chickens. In addition, he is responsible for the infamous raccoon-eating snowman  http://boingboing.net/2014/01/30/frosty-eats-raccoon-the-story.html

Whenever you see steam coming out of the roof vents, you know they are cooking syrup, and are welcome to stop by. Maple syrup production generally runs from February through early March. However, with the extreme cold this winter, the sap hasn't been running like usual.

A few members of the family were happy to pose for a picture.

I loved the look of this sheaf of tobacco hanging in the doorway, in front of an old potbelly stove.

The finished product sits on shelves in front of the window. It is also sold in several local businesses and can be purchased online.  For more information, contact http://www.cloughvalley.com 

Iowa in Winter

"Come and see, come dance with me,
To the beautiful Iowa Waltz" -- Greg Brown

I was getting itchy to visit my 91-year-old father, as I hadn't seen him since last summer. Since September my life has revolved around breast cancer diagnosis, surgery, and chemotherapy. But I was feeling good in February, so I took off on a solo road trip to Iowa. What a special time with my dad! The weather, however, was epic, even for the Midwest. Snow, blow, and cold! But one day while he was napping I did one of my favorite things: driving around country roads taking photos of whatever catches my eye.

Iowa has a quiet and subtle beauty in any season. Even though I haven't lived there for many years, I still feel connected to the land, and love getting out to appreciate it.

This farm is on Utica Ridge Road, near my dad's retirement village. I love the mosaic brick work on the silo. You don't see many like it.

When I was done taking the photo of the mosaic silo, I turned around and saw another nice barn/silo combination in the farm yard across the road where I had parked. I liked the textures in this scene, with the bare tree leaning over the old barn.

This gravel road was much steeper than it appears here. It was such a euphoric feeling to be all alone in the middle of nowhere on this glorious winter day!

This old barbed wire fence just called out to be photographed. It was so cold and windy on the top of this hill, but I loved the fence and weeds, with the farm fields beyond.

I came across this vista as I rounded the curve of a gravel road. This part of Iowa is hillier than people realize, and I loved this farm nestled down under the hill.

I like the swirls that the drifting snow created in the foreground of this old barn scene.

I have to admit I have no idea what this farm implement is for, but it struck me as sculpture-like; flowers or a peacock.

I badly wanted to get up close to this farm, so I stopped by and bought two dozen eggs and some jam, then asked the farmer if I could take some pictures. He said sure, just watch out for the Great Pyrenees dogs. As seen above and below, the biggest one was the same size and shape as the sheep he guarded!

This wooly guardian did his job and kept his eye on me.

I loved these three sheep. They seemed such good friends, and I think they were talking about me...

I have dogs and they live inside with me, so it is interesting to see dogs doing what they were actually bred to do. They didn't seem to mind that it was three degrees out. But my fingers did!

My last stop before returning to the warmth of my dad's apartment was to photograph this lone set of tracks across the farm field. I love all the different shades of blue and purple that snow can have.

It felt so good to get out, and although my fingers and camera were quite chilled, I had reconnected with the country I grew up in.

Word for the New Year: "Akasha"

"What has it got in its pocketses?" -- Gollum

I don't make New Year's resolutions, but I do try to set some intentions. When I was at yoga on New Year's Eve morning, the instructor invited us to pick from a pile of Buddha cards. My card had the word "space" or "akasha." This didn't resonate with me at all and, slightly disappointed, I put it in my pocket and thought no more about it.

Reading through my correspondence this morning, I was reminded that several artist friends choose a word as a talisman of sorts and reflect on it throughout the year. I decided to use the word "space." It isn't what I would have chosen, but it was in my pocket, asking to be explored.

My first thought is that having cancer has focused a lot of attention on me from family, friends, doctors, which I truly do appreciate. But I think when my treatment is over I will need some SPACE to find and redefine myself (preferably by going somewhere warm).

My second thought is that I need to carve out more space for meaningful pursuits, and that means less virtual and more real. Less Facebook and more hands-on activities. Something tangible to show at the end of the day.

Finally, I googled "akasha" and liked my card more and more. The meaning varies by philosophy: in Hinduism, Akasha means the basis and essence of all things in the material world; the first material element created from the astral world. In Sanskrit the word means "space," the very first element in creation. Many modern Pagans believe that the Akasha, Spirit, is the Fifth Element, the spiritual force that Earth, Air, Fire, and Water descend from. The combination of these four elements make up Akasha, which exists in every living creature; without Akasha, there is no spirit, no soul, no magic.

This gives me plenty to reflect on as the year begins its new cycle. Physical, mental, spiritual space in which to heal, grow, create. It is going to be a good year. Akasha.