What Next?

To say I feel really sad, disheartened, concerned, fearful, anxious, would all be an understatement. 

I guess it is no surprise that I have some kind of virus - sore throat, cough, fatigue, voice gone (to the delight of some, I am sure) - not corona, tested negative. There are of course many other viruses lurking in the bowl of soup in which we are living. The hottest June and July on record and now we lurch into August - the heartbreaking killing of the Druze children playing soccer on a Saturday - the targeted assassinations of the Hamas political leader, and the Hamas military commander, and Hezbollah's commander - blood, blood, blood.  Chopping of monsters' heads will only spawn many more monsters. This is like an insane game of chess, subterfuge, counterfuge, and thousands of innocent people dead.  And now we wait in dread for what will come next. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and soon there will be noone left - 

Once again airlines have stopped flights. Last night I bid a teary farewell to a dear family who have to go to a wedding in the States - they had to change all their flights and plans and have a very long, expensive trip ahead of them, and don't know how they will get back - if they get there.   I am not given to crying much, but these days it seems that is all I do. 

This week I haven't even had the wherewithal to do much other than sleep and watch the Olympics. Thank GOD for the Olympics. What will happen when they are over?

This is all far too much.

Shabat

Shabat today.  The temperature outside is 33 degrees (that is about 98 fahrenheit) humidity is at 63 %. In other words, not a day to venture outside - I swam this morning in the lovely pool - only 4 of us were enjoying the water, until the grandkids came at 11.  I am at home catching up on things, listening to Rhiannon Giddens on Spotify. I have neither looked at, nor listened to any news for 2 days. I truly can't handle it. Tonight I will go to the demonstration at the bridge and get caught up with everything.  I know there is a march to Jerusalem demanding that Netanyahu go with the 'deal' to release the hostages. I will also hear about that later.

With the suffocating heat we are all suffering from - all over the world, I wonder why countries bother to send armies to battle, we will all just fry anyway - we don't need to kill each other on top of it all.

So here is some of my recent art. 

Mount Sinai, in pastels.  Whether sub consciously or not,  I began this on Shavuot - the time Moses received the Torah.

The above is in pencil, I have entitled it (with apologies to Thich Nhat Hanh - No mud, no lotus."  So far we have plenty mud.

This week I attended to second get together of "Women Promote Peace."  We met on Sunday in a beautiful sustainable farm.  Really heartwarming, and nice to see people again, but it is but an infinitesimal drop in the great bloody ocean.

And on that uplifting note - shabat shalom.

I am scared

 I have been physically under the weather, apparently some unknown virus.  A little headache, a little fatigued, a little congested, a little cough, a streaming nose.  It is NOT corona or the flue - there is now a new test here that tests both.  It will pass.  Everything passes. 

I decided to listen to the presidential debate this morning - I am scared.  Trump (he who shall not be named) scares me - he scares me like Putin, Kim Jong Un, Erdogan, Netanyahu, Nasralla, Sinwa, .scare me. How can we even think that all the horrors which beset the planet will pass? If and when they pass they will leave in their wake an apocalypse of a planet.   I really try to be in the moment, to do yoga, to meditate, to paint, to garden (FULLY protected against mosquitoes), to go to demonstrations, attend gatherings, but today I am scared. Maybe that is why I do not feel well.

Up and Down

When I was growing up in Johannesburg,  The Rand Easter Show would come around once a year.  Johannesburg was part of an area known as the Rand, which included some other towns and farming areas.  The Show lasted about a week or 10 days, I don't remember anymore.  It was a fun event - like a great big fair.  New farming equipment and the latest model cars were on show.  There were people selling different fares.  We could go for rides on animals  We bought popcorn and candy floss - I remember sticking my tongue into the fluff for the first time, and how it melted and tasted sort of warm-ish, and transformed from a cotton ball into melted sugar strips.  There were also all sorts of fun rides, houses of mirrors, fun things. I must have had a sensitive vestibular system as a child - some of the rides really scared me - I remember screaming for dear life as the roller coaster began its downward swoop - my stomach lurched outside of me, and I was grateful when the ride ended. I did not get on it again. There was something else, like a round wall and you stood with your back to it and it began spinning around and the floor dropped away and one was stuck to this wall in odd configurations.  Not for me.

Why am I remembering all these things - on Saturday 4 hostages were rescued - the country experienced euphoria, mixed with fear for the others still somewhere in Gaza, the officer killed, all the Palestinians killed - and the eternal - what next?  As a friend said to me, life here is a roller coaster.

That exactly describes the way we are living since that "black Saturday."  As I said, I was not a great candidate for the carnival rides.  I experience a strange feeling of discombobulation.  I feel disoriented, even, in a way, disembodied.  I think most people feel the same.  It is not a good feeling.

What I am doing today

It is Sunday, May 26.  I.go to a nearby village for therapy on Sunday morning.  After my morning coffee and shower I called the taxi company so that a taxi would pick me up and then bring me back.  The little village is 15 minutes away by car.  Today the taxi driver arrived early, hooted (honked for you Americans) made a U-turn and stopped outside my house.  I hurried, upset that he was  early as that would mean I would have to wait outside the therapy building for at least 10 minutes - there is no shelter and today is hot.  I said 'good morning' to him and got in the car. He grunted  "morning" and off he flew - over untarred, narrow stony roads. Of course I arrived early - paid him and got out. Then I had a sinking thought - 'where did I put my key?"  I searched my bag - it wasn't there, felt in my pocket, not there. Had I left it in my door -I know I locked it but as I was in a rush maybe I left it there. This took up 10 minutes so I pressed the door buzzer, and .... it didn't work. I was asked to try various combinations - nothing worked.  My therapist came to let me in.

In the return taxi I told the driver I think I may have left my key in the other taxi - he called the office and they contacted the other driver. He answered saying he wasn't in his car and he would look later.  When I got home I got a spare key from reception.  After that I went to the nearby mall to get some food and have a frozen yogurt. In the supermarket I saw the helpful friendly Arab woman who works there - we greeted each other, "hamdelila" everything is good, and we smiled at each other.  I bought a bread, very pleased that I could ask for it in Arabic. It is not a long sentence - "I want bread" and "thank you."

I ate a yogurt outside under an umbrella and then walked home.  At 2 o'clock I opened my door with the spare key, put my trolley and bag down and turned to close the door.  At exactly that moment I heard the air raid siren.  We haven't had a siren in 6 months - I couldn't quite believe it.  My preference would have been to get into bed, but it wasn't really an option - I grabbed my phone and went to the shelter in the building next to me.  Old, demented people and their petrified Philipino caregivers. Little yapping dogs. Boom boom boom - explosions, or the iron dome?  or both? My wi fi wasn't working.  10 minutes of confusion - then the all clear.  A barrage of missiles had been sent to the central area of Israel from Rafah.  

We were OK, thank goodness. Shaken up, of course, but OK. Planes overhead all the time, but they are overhead all the time, day and night.  

It is now 5.00 p.m. The taxi driver returned my key and I have yoga at 5.30.  Tonight is Lag B'Omer - festivities supposed to be outside in the park - maybe they wont be.

EVERYTHING is tentative.

What I'm Doing

 

I took the photo of this Sylvia Protea in my friend's garden in Tiburon.  Recently I drew it using colour pencils.

This is a photo I took in a street in a village

I did this in pastels from a photo of Mt. Legogoto in Northern Gauteng. The photo was in the Daily Maverick, an online South African newspaper.

I work in a food bank packing large crates of vegetables.  I found these 2 interesting looking eggplants.

From one of the Saturday night demonstrations in Tel Aviv

And on Thursday May 223rd I had surgery in my left eye.  I have a condition called canaliculitis -  after trying various treatments I went ahead with the surgery.  The doctor had told me that it is the only thing that works. Apparently he removed stones and inserted a shunt!!!!!!!!  My eye does, in fact, 2 days later, feel better.  I can actually open it in the morning.

So all of the above is to let you know I am alive and of course - just distraught over what is happening, and therefore won't say a word.  Or, maybe one.

CHAOS

Apologies

 I know there are those who look at my blog, at least, the statistics show that people look at it. Surprisingly large numbers which makes me think the algorithms are off.  Anyway, for those who do, you will have noticed that I have not written any entries since that surreal night of the Iranian attack.I simply do not feel like it. I have nothing to say. It feels like there is just one horror after another.  As it is, these days between the end of Passover and before Independence Day are always very difficult in Israel.  As my late friend Ziva would say, "The terrible days". Holocaust Memorial Day, Day of Remembrance.  And it is all just too much. So, thats it - sorry - nothing to say.  I will make an entry when I feel up to it.

Be well.