In My Heart of Arts

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61574_430831122470_2287989_nMy mind tends to wander quite a bit when I have my morning tea. If it wanders far enough, it also makes me lose track of time and I end up being late for work. This morning was one of those long and wide mind-wanderings.

Back when I lived with roommates and had no living beings depending on me for survival, we used to have art nights. I just realized I didn’t write much about these affairs in my past blogs, but damn, these were some fucking awesome nights.

We came up with the idea when my roommates and I took a road trip up north and visited the Dada museum in Ein Hod. There was a section of it dedicated solely to what they called “Garbage Art”. Basically, art made with recycled things and discarded objects left in the trash. Random shit that anybody can make. Like a discarded toilet bowl with a boot stuck on the rim.

So we were like, “Hey, we can make that too!”

And so, every once in a while, we invited over some friends, laid out all our art supplies and made whatever we felt like. If it was drawing, painting, writing, poetry, playing guitar, jewelry making, zine making, fimo molding, knitting, crocheting, absolutely anything goes.

Sometimes, we also tried to set art nights with a theme. We had an art night on Purim once, where we painted masks and noisemakers, some people showed up with costumes, we served Hamantashen and a bunch of sweets. It was so rad! We also had an art night on Lag Baomer and made Smores on our stove top. An art night on Tu Bishvat (the tree-hugging holiday) with a special lecture by one of my friends about all-natural body products. Of course, an art night involving a small zine workshop led by me for anybody who was interested in zine production.

I loved how most of the art nights that we had were attended only by women. Sure, we had some men coming every now and then. I even invited my husband (who was still my boyfriend back then) once, who refused at first because he felt he had no artistic talent.

“You play guitar,” I replied. “That’s an art. Come and play guitar for us!” So he did.

But most of the time, we were all women. There is something special in being in the company of a bunch of women, making art, talking about art, living breathing art, even if just for a few hours. There is no tension, no competition, no animosity, no need to justify or prove oneself for one reason or another. As we saw it, we were all equal, and we were all friends.

These were the thoughts that were going through my mind as herbal tea was rushing through my system in the morning. I started longing for these art nights which do not happen anymore because the roommate clan has disbanded. We each went our separate ways, mostly to the married life and subsequent motherhood. Of course, I regret nothing. I love being a wife and mother. But I certainly wish that “artist” was still included in the list of things that define me.

Peace, love and maybe I could have an art night with my kid and her friends when she grows up.

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No Presents for New Year

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So New Year’s is coming up, and just like any other Christian New Year I will be doing nothing. New Year’s for me is as unimportant as the Jewish New Year is to Christians. Thinking back on all the other New Years I’ve had, they were either uneventful or absolutely horrible. I’m pretty sure I wrote about this once, though I can’t remember where, so here it is again.

I don’t remember any New Year parties before Y2K, so nothing happened then.

In 2000, New Year’s eve fell on a Friday. So it was the Sabbath. I did nothing more than watching the NY ball drop on TV, expecting my computer to go up in flames and waiting for nukes to fly. Nothing happened of course and life went on as usual.

In 2001, I slept. In 2002, I slept some more. In 2003, I was up north with my boyfriend of the time, getting drunk and freezing my ass off in a cabin that had no heating. The following day I spent with my head in the toilet. In 2004, some more sleeping took place. In 2005, I wrote this post. The following years, I was in Israel (and still am) where the “Sylvester” is virtually non-existent. It’s just another day where you go to work and, while looking over your schedule for the day or writing another invoice, you realize “Oh yeah, it’s January 1st,” in a rather nonchalant tone. Same thing happens on Christmas.

There were some New Year’ses that sucked ass. Like in January 1, 2010. It was the 30-day memorial of my cousin who passed away from brain cancer. So the first thing I did that year was looking at the gravestone of an 18-year-old kid, while my grandmother was screaming bloody murder.

In 2010 to 2012, schlafen marathons galore, and maybe even some Stephen King books.

In 2013 I had a blast – namely my elbow was blasted to hell and beyond. So I spent my New Year’s at the hospital. How awesome is that?

In 2014, I was still struggling to find a date for my second surgery and Hadassah Hospital kept postponing it. And then I slept.

This year, there’s a party at Blaze, but I don’t care. I rather stay at home and get some writing done. Now that I have some time cleared, I may actually make something of myself, and celebrate New Year 2015 in the company of my typewriter, stationaries, pens and paper. Who knows, maybe I can even start a new issue of PMS!

Peace, love and January is in winter anyway so it sucks no matter what.

Engage the Metalhead Within

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20141116_225604Well, I had plans for a new tattoo, and I had plans for a new zine, and I had plans to not have another surgery at least until this year is over. But plans are made to be changed. So here it is.

I am set to have another surgery on November 30. It will be my fourth one this year but it will be relatively minor… I hope. It has nothing to do with my elbow injury or my cataract but I won’t detail this procedure beyond that, considering its sensitive nature.

Onto more happy plans, I plan on getting married! My boyfriend and I got engaged last week. We went and picked out a ring together and we’re starting to look at wedding halls this evening. I hope to set a date for early March, but my boyfriend is leaning towards the end of June, so we’re still undecided on that.

Last night, we went to our weekly ritual at Blaze Bar – Sunday Metal Night. A night of good company, drinks, face-melting metal tunes and intensive neck breaking. What we didn’t expect was the surprise the Jerusalemite metalheads had in store for us. They ordered cake, balloons and champagne to celebrate our engagement, and their plans on that night was no doubt to get us completely wasted. They managed to do that with me, but seeing as I went a little overboard a few weeks ago and spent the rest of the night being tortured by stomach acid wreaking havoc on my throat and nasal passages, I took it easy this time around and stopped when I felt I had enough – two glasses of champagne, one very very light cocktail and two very very light chasers.

As for my boyfriend (I hate the term fiance), he got the old stomach utterly upset. Mr. Stomach then decided to pull a Jim Breuer and kicked all the ingested guests right the fuck out. So said plastered boyfriend spent his night as I did a few weeks ago, then he had to be carried out of the bar and back home by cab who had to be paid twice the amount of cash we usually pay, because the driver was reluctant to take in a guy who might very well vomit up and down the car.

So the night ended in disaster (I was pretty upset too seeing my boyfriend in that condition) but the night itself was fucking awesome! They played the best metal tunes, I got my headbang going at full throttle the moment all the “congrats” had passed around, we had about two or three dozen l’Chaim’s throughout the night, chasers and hugs on the house… it was quite possibly one of the best metal nights Jerusalem has to offer.

After the wedding, we plan to go to North America for a couple of weeks. And later on we also plan on having children, but that’s still a bit far off. And if the metalheads throw us a baby shower, the bar ought to be smoke free and alcohol free… not much of a party, eh?

Zines and tattoos will eventually be done, but with all the wedding arrangements, they’ll be on hold for now.

Peace, love and SLAYERRR! \m/

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IZM – Day 26: Zine Event

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This activity was set for Day 27, while on Day 26 I was supposed to contribute something to a compilation zine. But since the second-hand sale party at Hataklit was set for July 26, I decided to table with my zines on Day 26, and leave the contribution for today, July 27.

DSC02459So! The event wasn’t exactly a zine event as there really aren’t any such events in Jerusalem. And if there were any, I’ve never heard of them. I did try to get in touch with some people before IZM started to see if organizing such an event might be possible, but it didn’t work out. So I’m happy that I managed to participate at this second-hand sale yesterday.

At first, I was a bit nervous. I didn’t really worry that no one was not going to buy anything. I was mostly worried that I would be completely ignored by the other people tabling there. But I wasn’t. They were nice and welcoming. Smiles were exchanged and I was relieved.

My boyfriend drove me there with all my stuff, and stayed there the entire time, met with his friends, who also came by and said hi, and attended a live punk show that took place right next door.

I set up my table as best as I could, and realized that I brought much more stuff than I could fit on it, but it still worked out nicely.

DSC02462I kept all the Crafts for a Cause items off to the left side of the table. All the rest of the items, mainly my PMS Zine and Fallopian Falafel, as well as a few Mistress Distress CDs, were all set more to the right. The only problem was that the event was a street sale and I had quite a bit of papers and flyers, so I had to find ways of keeping everything from flying off the table. I managed it alright as well. I set up a few flyers on the table but kept them bound in a rubber band to keep them from taking off.

A few people walked by, but before there were too many, I checked out the other tables. I bought a pair of really cool skull tights from one, and a really neat checkered shirt from another. I also bought a mango-vanilla cupcake from my friend who made them for the event.

Surprisingly, some people were really interested in my stuff, some even bought a couple of CDs and zines. There was this one girl who even traded her own zine for one of mine. This one guy was very interested in the Crafts for a Cause initiative. He didn’t want to buy any of the items, and instead donated 10 NIS to the cause, so I put a plastic cup with a Jerusalem Rape Crisis Center sticker in the middle of the table in case more people wished for that option.

There was also this one Australian woman who was so cool. She bought a zine from Crafts for a Cause, and bought a Mistress Distress CD. I gave her a free copy of Fallopian Falafel, and she bought me a drink from the bar!

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My friend, Alison, also came for a visit and kept me company for a while. She remarked on how most of the time, wherever she goes around in Jerusalem, people stare at her because of her tattoos, but this time, everybody around the area of Hataklit were sporting tattoos and piercings and funky hair, and it was a refreshing change of scene.

There were, of course, those occasional assholes who said that feminism is no longer necessary, or those who just laughed uncomfortably when I said the dreaded f-word, and explained that all the items I’m selling are of that nature. But there weren’t enough of those people to make me unhappy. I actually enjoyed the sale a lot more than I expected. I met some nice people, including a girl from Tel Aviv who organizes a zine festival every six months or so. When she saw my zines, she looked at me with a confused expression and said “How come I never heard of you before?”

The event ended at 18:00. The punk show next door ended as well, and instead they started spinning some really annoying music. I’m not sure what it was exactly but my boyfriend said it’s probably “noise.” I packed up my stuff and we headed home, exhausted but very happy.

Peace, love and I ought to get started on my split zine! Hurray!

IZM – Day 25: Teach a Friend About Zines

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The truth is that on that day, I didn’t do what I planned. The 1-page zine I made on Day 23 was a mini-greeting-zine. A sort of a greeting card I made for my friend’s pre-wedding party, a Moroccan traditional party known as Henna. I planned to tell the people attending the Henna about zines and about International Zine Month and read them the greeting zine I made for my friend. But then, I changed my mind when I saw the size of the crowd at the party. There were too many people, and besides, the focus of the party was on my friend and her groom, of course. So I dropped the idea, and just gave my friend her greeting zine.

Instead, my boyfriend and I played guitar and sang a couple of songs at the party. And I also told another friend of mine who was at the party a little about International Zine Month.

As promised, here are a couple of pictures of the 1-page zine I made.

DSC02465 DSC02466Peace, love and Hennas are totally swell

Social Caterpillar

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So this past week was basically all parties. On Sunday, I went out with my roommate, our mutual friend (who was also our former roommate) from Switzerland and her sister to Waffle Bar. On Monday, I had dinner with my boyfriend, then met up with my friend Deb from Jerusalem and Nelly from Sweden, and we went to a drag party downtown. On Tuesday, I went for ice cream with my roommates. Wednesday was writing night, but it was just as exciting as a party, so yeah… And Thursday, I went to a Henna party with my boyfriend.

Tonight is Shabbat so maybe I’ll manage to get some rest, unless my boyfriend and I decide to go for a night stroll at the beach after having dinner with my parents… then again, jellyfish are not as visible at night, so we’ll have to take that into consideration as well.

Having a social life is awesome. I realized that if I didn’t go out with my friends after work, all my life would only be work. And sleep. Work, sleep, work, sleep. Life can get really boring if you allow work to take over your life and think you’re too tired to go out after your shift is over. So I don’t allow it to take over my life. Like on Monday, I got home only at 2:00 a.m. and slept for only three hours. I was exhausted on Tuesday and so was my roommate, but we had plans to go to a free concert at the Submarine. So when my roommates and I wanted to go out the next day, instead of saying we’re too tired to do anything and just stay home, we changed our plans to something more simple, and went out for ice cream instead. A nice relaxing night, gave ourselves the opportunity to talk, without having to scream over the loud music or choke on cigarette smoke, or get home at yet another ridiculous hour, or go to sleep with ringing ears and smoke in our hair. Indeed, a social night.

Having a social life is important for my sanity. And as much as I love to sleep, I also need to have a life besides work. I remember how back in the day, my friends and I really had no life. We were too busy with schoolwork to do anything fun. School was our whole life. During the day, we were in class, and at night, we did our homework. On weekends, we studied for exams or worked on major projects. I envied my parents who worked during the day and then came back home and resumed their detachment from reality with TV or miscellaneous social events.

So now that I am working, I choose to indulge after work instead of vegetating. Mostly, I’d spent time with my friends because they’re all in Jerusalem, so proximity is key when you get home from work at 7:00 p.m. and plan to go to sleep at around 10:00 or 11:00 (to wake up the next day at 5:30 a.m.). So hanging out with my family in Southern Israel on a weekday is out of the question because travelling there would take me two hours, back and forth.

This past week, although I partied only in the Holy City, I still crashed pretty late, and woke up borderline-comatose, but pretty goddamn happy with my life. Work to make money to spend it at night and enjoy the company of my friends.

Since today is Friday, I am leaving work at 12:30, and gonna take a nap from 1:15 to 4:00, then shower, pack and go to my parents’ new place in Netanya, where I’ll spend Shabbat. Then I’ll go back home on Saturday night with the record player my parents got me!!!

Next week, I’ll mostly be socializing with my typewriter. Like I said earlier, writing is just as exciting as a party. Only, I need to set up a new time for writing, because I have a wedding on Wednesday. And I need to do some crafts, flyers, maybe a new zine and write some letters… Writing, crafts and culture is also a social life, and very necessary. It’s like neurological exercise. Creating is like bench-pressing. I need to oil up my gray matter, so I don’t get rusty.

Peace, love and random fact of the day: squids have the biggest neuron in all creation. It’s the size of a hair.

Nana and Miklos

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Aliyah tomorrow at 3:10 p.m.
 
Last night was my last night in downtown Montreal. I left at around 8:30 with two of my friends (we’ll call them T. and R. in case they don’t want their names here) for a final farewell night of happy-happy-joy-joy-forgetting-all-the-other-bullshit fun.
It started off with a big huge fruity milkshake at Rockaberry’s (not really downtown, but I’m getting there). Then playing pool at Jilly’s on Decarie (still not downtown, but that’s next). Then we headed for Cabaret Mado.
The milkshake was ok. A little too big for my stomach to stomach but very fruity indeed. Another one of my friends (we’ll call him J.) called me up while I was working on my shake and said he wanted to join us, but would take some time to get ready, and it would take me some time to try and convince T. to come with us to Cabaret Mado because it’s a drag queen club in the Gay Village.
So in the meantime T., R. and I decided to go play pool. I suck at pool but by some miracle I managed to sink enough balls for my team to actually win the game. By then, J. arrived at Jilly’s and joined me in my fight to get T. to come with us to the Cabaret. Again, by some miracle, we won, and he joined us.
I bet that T. regrets ever having considered it. The drag host picked on him during their show (because he was the odd guy out, not laughing at the jokes because they were all in Quebecois) and graphically demonstrated how she would eat his ass.
R., J. and I were torn to shreds, on the fucking floor, but T. was all red and not the least bit amused. I felt bad for having had a good time at his expense but it was so totally worth it! He turned to me and said "Thanks a lot, Hadass!"
Lucky for me, T. still has a certain sense of humor, in his own heterosexual way. So we’re still friends, and there’s no hard feelings.
In any case, I’m gonna miss the Village, and the Cabaret, and the rest of downtown Montreal, and definitely my friends. Another thing I’m gonna miss about Montreal is how you can actually breath in the clubs, bars and restaurents, how you don’t feel like every breath you take is a breath closer to getting lung cancer, and how you don’t leave the scene smelling like an ashtray. Every time I’ll be hanging out in a public place in Israel, I’ll revert back to those same feelings because EVERYBODY smokes in Israel! *BARF*
So anyways, tonight at around 1 or 2 a.m., my parents and I are leaving for Burlington. From there, we’re taking a flight to New York, and that’s when I have to tell them goodbye and leave for Israel.
Peace, love and I’ve got BAGGAAAAAGE!