Sending love and prayers to my dear friends and families taking shelter and taking others in tonight.
Even if we are divided by inhabitants, may we be united by rooftops as we find shelter together.
Shelter is peace in the midst of chaos…a place of welcome…something that quails our fear when we are afraid.
A shelter is a refuge from the world, from war, from the noise of life.
I think what I like about the image of a shelter is that its not apart from the storm but is something that is placed in the storm and yet it is something that helps keep us from harm’s way, but it isn’t so far away that we loose sight of it.
The latest release of Daniel Gordis, “The Promise of Israel,” has lead me to think again about the land where I live.
This past year, I trained in Tel Aviv with choreographer, Ohad Naharin. Here, he is a rockstar, even the taxi drivers know him by name. Ohad Naharin as been director of Batsheva Dance Company since the year I was born. We’ve both learned a lot since then. One of the common and most crucial things being unison. There’s a lot of rift between people in the Holy Land, if you haven’t heard. Not even between “different sides” but within the same group of people. Have you heard the saying, “2 Jews 3 opinions?” Live here for a year and you’ll believe it.
In spite of that, there’s a movement of not just dancers, but people, who want to listen. Batsheva performed in the Edinburgh International Festival this past week when their performance was interrupted by protestors. The dancers carried on-the show must go on. Even more, they moved in unison.
The point of “The Promise of Israel” and the point of this post is an invitation.
We want to welcome you into the conversation. It is about time since it has been a couple thousand years coming.
“Jerusalem is divided by her inhabitants but united by rooftops.”
If you are a visual learner or mathematician, here you go…
Daniel Gordis pitched some ideas in his latest release, “The Promise of Israel.” It got me thinking once again about peace and all the pitches thrown about it.
Baseball players pitch.
Vocalists carry a pitch.
Carpenters measure a pitch.
Dancers pitch too, executed with grace.
Whoever you are, whatever your talent, pitch for P E A C E .
Welcome to the conversation. You, yes you, Y O U have a place to stand for peace.
“One of the greatest things about dance is that it exists beyond boarders, national, geographic, religious, and ethnic connotations….More about dance, it is the best example of what is good about humanity, a glance into a better future.”
-Ohad Naharin, American Dance Festival, 2009
I’m preparing to leave Tel Aviv tonight, and I’m not ready to take my flight. I know I’ll be back, but at least on the plane I have a groovy playlist and a brand-new good read (“The Promise of Israel”) about a really old conflict in a brand new light. Out with the old and in with the new.
If you have never laid eyes on the sun kissed holy land, enjoy Yaron’s video as I prepare to take/or not take my flight.
I was going to meet up with Daniel Gordis in Jerusalem last Shabbat, but the flu and other contingencies precluded that happening, so we’ll be crossing paths in the states instead. There’s still a lot of questions, but at least I have a 26 hour travel day to mule them over before we meet.
I’m sitting in a City Café at the intersection of Hertzl and Florentin, a vibrant South Tel Aviv neighborhood even on a quiet Shabbat evening.
I just ordered Nestle Café with Nutella and Shukshukha, Balkan Beatbox is playing on the radio, and there’s a smelly dog under the table on my right. The sun is setting and I think I’ll go for a swim at dusk to loosen up before the performance at Suzanne Dellal. My bike was stolen, again. This time they lifted the pole out of the cement instead of lifting the bike. I’ll walk to the sea and show. It couldn’t be more stereotypical or surreal.
Around me is conflict. Deportations, protests, self-imolations, bomb siren drills, friends on edge talking about deployment when Damascus falls. I’m in a hurricane but sitting in the eye of Florentin. It is interesting seeing life from the eye of the storm.
What do you see? Where do you think I live? There’s a lot buzzing in my brain and I’d like to keep thoughts flowing.