my ambivalent life

2011-12-11T15:42:00.000+01:00

one thing that made me happy today:
putting a long coat over my pj's and going out to get some milk. with my pj's still on.

I wish I could be on of those people who can study and concentrate on cue. I wish I could plan my day to be half study, half something else (gym, shopping, work, knitting...). half day around the city, and back home to study. unfortunately I can't. I'm one of those persons who need to clear off the entire day just to get a few productive hours of study. and it doesn't necessarily work every time.
so in the end I could spent a whole day at my desk, only partially studying, but completely wasting my time.
I wish I could concentrate on cue. but I can't. so I learned to embraced it. I learned to enjoy these moments of waste along the day. and I learned to get milk at the little shop downstairs, in my pj's. cause getting dressed and going to the supermarket (and buying other needed groceries) is a distraction that will consume my entire day.

coffee break is coming up

2011-12-10T20:58:00.000+01:00

since my boy friend is out of town this month, and since even when he's here he's not really buying me flower, I bought them myself.
32 beautiful flowers, handmade out of silkworm cocoon. I think they're supposed to be tulips.
at first I didn't want to buy them, I thought my room is too small and full of stuff, no spare place to put them.
but when I saw the next stand that sold them (at the xmas market) I couldn't resist.
and I'm glad I didn't.
so yes, I didn't take the bigger vase, but the small one. and yes, I bought the shorter flowers instead of the tall long ones.
but I moved some things around and found a corner for them.
and even though they are small and short (kind of like me), they make me happy.

2011-12-06T18:24:00.001+01:00

Grinfelds don't get divorced
they don't
not until now at least
one woman for one man. and vice versa.

and I?
what about the Weinsteins?

Hechts don't get divorced, Zalis don't (or do they?)
and we?

no divorce history in my family... but than again no marriage history too...
the entire divorce / happy marriage role model for the next generations of Weinsteins is depending on us 3 children.

I guess I should marry a Grinfeld, happily ever after is right here.

(no hidden meaning in this post, just an objective reflection about the future)
(this is not a marriage announcement, no wedding anytime soon)

2011-11-26T19:54:00.000+01:00

I just love the internet. whichever problem you're having, you can count on someone else having it first. and you can count on the internet to have the answer.

http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20080118062139AA9baVU

I'm invited to my boss's house to brunch tomorrow and since wine seems a bit wrong this early (well I am in Italy so maybe not) and the only place I know in milan which sells bagel, muffins ec' is really expensive, I decided to bake some cookies myself.
5 euro and 1 hour later and my palmier (or elephant ears as they call it in hebrew) are boxed and ready for tomorrow.
wish me luck.

2011-11-25T20:59:00.002+01:00

I want to wear my new golden dress and a pair of heels, put some make up on, and go dancing.
But my dress is short and it's freezing outside.
I've been working all day and literally can't keep my eyes open.
And my special someone is out of town, so no one to lean on while wearing my way too high heels.
I guess it's hot cider and bed time for me...

yap, I'm old.

2011-10-17T17:38:00.001+02:00

הבעיה איתי היא שאין לי דחיית סיפוקים.

לא שאני חייבת משהו כאן ועכשיו ולא מסוגלת לחכות לאחר כך, אני לא אצרח ואבכה כמו ילדה בעגלה של הסופר באגף הירקות. אצלי הבעיה קצת שונה, ובעצם כנראה אצל כולנו.

כשאני חושבת על משהו, רוצה לעשות משהו, לראות מישהו, אני רוצה כאן ועכשיו - אחר כך כבר לא ארצה יותר.

אין לי בעיה לא לקבל משהו, יש לי בעיה להמשיך לרצות לאורך זמן.

אני לא מצליחה להתרכז מספיק, לשמר את העניין, את ההתלהבות.

נורא אשמח לעכשיו ומיד, אבל גם אם לא זה בסדר.

מאוחר יותר לעומת זאת זה כבר לא יעניין אותי.

ואם הפוסט הזה מבולגן ומבולבל זה בגלל שחשבתי לכתוב אותו לפני כמה שעות, ועכשיו כבר אין לי מספיק עניין בו.

כך שהוא כזה.

2011-10-01T22:17:00.002+02:00

last weekend of living alone, and the only thing I can think of is I can't wait for this week to begin. so exited!

2011-09-30T11:29:00.001+02:00

So after 10 days in Budapest, 2 month back home in Israel and 1 intensive week of physics studying I finally got back to my Italian weekly routine. And as I've mentioned before, one of the best thing about it is the friday morning market. A short yet exciting trip to the market, 4 zucchinis and 300 gr of yarn later and I'm ready to start my day. Green soup and a beige scarf are coming up.

2011-09-25T12:48:00.000+02:00

I wish I was one of those persons who can note down something they want to write about (for example, meeting the parents) and just write about it later. but I'm not. I have no impulse control. If something runs through my mind I have to write it down immediately, or I lose it. It may be the thought or the muse.
It's a good thing I'm carrying a notebook around.

(a very reflexive self reminder to write about meeting the parents)

2011-07-05T20:59:00.000+02:00

today for me was the first and only day of the summer sales, or as they call it here in the fashionable Milan, i saldi.

I already know why the university schedule the end of the semester on the sales period (well to crash what ever is left of our spirit of course) but why the stores set my busiest month of the years as their ultimate time for sales (winter and summer!!) is still beyond me.

anyway, took half a day off before jumping into 2 painful weeks in front of the computer (autocad and photoshop hating post will follow) and checked out this year's offers. not too interesting I'm afraid. didn't really find anything special, or at all, and the prices were not that low. the only thing I did find was this classic pair of high heel shoes. the heel is only 8 cm high, I guess after trying out the 15 cm ones mine felt pretty comfortable.

so that's my purchase of this year summer's saldi.

now let's hope I'll find some place to wear them to. I'll be back home in 2 weeks and I seriously doubt I will put them on for a night out at the local pub.

2011-06-24T00:14:00.003+02:00

sometimes routine can be nice.

you get up every day pretty early, brush your teeth, go to class, get home late, exhausted, coffee break and back to work. gym twice a week and a friendly beer on the weekends.

that sucks. you want to go places, want to travel, you want to do stuff, meet people, eat new food, experience what life has to offer. but as john lennon said once : "life is what happens now, while you're busy making other plans".

and that is my life at the moment. good or bad. a 5 years somewhat sacrifice for a better future.

but routine can sometimes surprise you, make you smile when you need it. when your neighbor feels comfortable enough to loan some money, when the mean lady at your coffee place starts smiling at you, when the barista draw a smile or a heart on your cappuccino, when the extras in your life makes little private jokes… that's when your daily routine is not so bad.

2011-06-19T21:59:00.008+02:00

this are my last 2 creations. both of them were made thanks to my neighborhood weekly market. as always, by looking for nothing you find exactly the right thing.

this lovely bag started out as a 1 kilo (!!) ball of yarn (I only used about 650 gr more or less). unfortunately it is too heavy to carry around so unless I'm really in the mood it will function as a (soft but stands on its own) bowl. at the time I have nothing to put in it so if that will still be the case in august I will give it a better home. I bet my aunt will put it to good use.

it is made out of a very cool t-shirt yarn and took me almost all day to make. oh if only I had that much patience for the stuff I really do need to do.

anyway discovering that new (or should I say old) material, immediately sent me to the closet to recycle some old shirts into new balls of yarn. more t-shirt projects will definitely be coming up.

next one. I found those vintage buttons in a huge buttons box at the market and just connected them to a chain I crocheted in 5 minutes. the ring I already did about 2 month ago.

to sum up: I should visit that market every week.

and maybe leave school and start crocheting instead.

2011-06-11T16:06:00.000+02:00

No all'occupazione israeliana di milano ! ! !

People are shouting in the street. No to the Israeli occupation of Milan.

But we sure do welcome terrorism and violence.

I have no problem with people saying out loud what they believe in, I have no problem with people having a different opinion than mine, it's their prerogative.

I do however have a problem with people talking so strongly about something they know nothing about, shouting it out loud not because they believe in it, but because it's cool.

Well yes, it is in fact very cool to put on the Palestinian flag and boycott Israel. It suits my new hipster's look.

Hating Israel is the new black...

2011-05-23T20:51:00.002+02:00

.פנים. ערב

.עוד שעה מבוזבזת מול המחשב

.דינה החילודוסית מהעונה השניה של מחוברות נוסעת מירושלים לקבר רחל ואני חושבת לעצמי שזאת נסיעה ארוכה עד הכינרת

.ורק אחרי כמה שניות קולטת שלכל אחד יש את הרחל שלה

.ובעצם הנסיעה שלה לא ארוכה כל כך

צריחות שצרחתי נואשת, כואבת

,בשעות מצוקה ואובדן

,היו למחרוזת מילים מלבבת

.לספר שירי הלבן

,נגלו חביונות לא גיליתי לרע

,נחשף החתום בי באש

ואת תוגתו של הלב הכורע

.יד כל במנוחה תמשש

.אני חושבת שזה אחד השירים הבודדים שאני יודעת בעל פה

...ובעצם, הרי זוהי המהות של כל הבלוג הזה

2011-05-14T11:15:00.000+02:00

yesterday we had a visiting professor who talked about focus groups and interactive research for an architecture project. at one point, talking about group dynamics, she said there is a golden rule for a successful discussion: every time you feel useless, you feel you're not contributing to the conversation, you feel you've got nothing to take or give in return - change your place. cambia posto!

I wonder if it's applicable for life as well.

it probably should be.

did I get everything I can from milan? from architecture? do I still have something left to give back?

2011-05-12T21:07:00.000+02:00

לחיים צריך זמן. ורצוי יותר מ-24 השעות היומיות שמוקצבות לנו.

ומי בכלל קבע שביום יש 24 שעות בלבד?

לא עדיף פחות ימים בשבוע אך ארוכים יותר.

צריך זמן לקום ולזוז וללמוד ולאכול ולרוץ וללכת ולבוא ולראות ולשמוע ולנוח קצת באמצע.

אז בטח ש-24 שעות זה לא מספיק.

2011-05-02T11:29:00.005+02:00

אתמול בלילה בן הזוג שלי אמר לי שזהו יום השואה הראשון שלו בלי סבתו והצטער שהוא לא יכול להתקשר אליה. הצעתי לו לכתוב לה מכתב והוא אמר שחבל שהוא לא מהאנשים שיכולים. אני כן.

אז אני כותבת לה מכתב מלא, או שמא ריק, זכרונות.

סבתי היקרה סרין,

באחת השיחות הצלולות האחרונות שלנו לקחת אותי לחדרך והראית לי תמונות מצהיבות של בני המשפחה. כשהגעת לתמונה של סבא אמרת לי שאותו אני בטח לא זוכרת. השבתי לך שכן, למרות שמה שבאמת רציתי לענות היה "סבתא, אני זוכרת את כולם". אני לא זוכרת אותו. אין לי אף לא זכרון אחד של סבא. אבל אני זוכרת את התמונות. ואני זוכרת אותך.

אני זוכרת אותך תופרת את המכפלת במכנסיים החדשים שלי. אני זוכרת את זוג המכנסיים, כנראה שכבר הייתי בת עשרה.

אני זוכרת שנים בהן שיחקנו משחקים על השולחן הגדול של ציפה או זה שבמרפסת. תמיד שיחקנו חמש בשורה. לפעמים ניצחתי אני ולפעמים את.

אני זוכרת שהיינו מחזירים אותך לבית של נעמי במושב. ואת כל הטווסים בחצר.

אני זוכרת שהייתי צריכה לצעוק בטלפון.

אני זוכרת שנסענו עם ציפה באוטו ושיחקנו סיומות מילים. אני לא זוכרת מי אמר מה לפנייך אבל השבת לו ב"חנית".

אני זוכרת שנפלת במדרגה הקטנה שיש לנו בסלון בבית. זה הזכרון היחיד שלי ממך שמתרחש אצלנו בבית.

פתאום כשאני נזכרת עולות לי גם תמונות של סבא. עם הביצים והלול. ועץ הפקאן בחצר. איך לימד אותנו לפצח אגוזים עם אבן על המרפסת הקטנה במושב.

ואיך היית מערבבת לנו גלידה עם מיץ תפוחים במטבח.

אני זוכרת ערב ראש השנה אחד, אצלכם בבית, אבל למען האמת רק את יואב מוציא דבש מהצנצנת.

אני זוכרת בית חולים ומסדרון ארוך.

אני זוכרת שהשכבת אותי לישון ונתת לי להשתעשע בעור המתדלדל תחת זרועך.

אני זוכרת אותך יושבת במטבח ומגלגלת שקיות משומשות.

אני זוכרת את כיסא הגלגלים בסלון הקטן.

ואת מכשיר הקריאה עם הזכוכית המגדלת.

אני זוכרת את השמלות הפרחוניות שלך.

אני לא זוכרת הרבה, סבתא.

אני רוצה להאמין שאני זוכרת את מה שחשוב.

2011-04-30T22:55:00.001+02:00

ללמוד ארכיטקטורה פירושו לחיות במצב מדומה של מאניה-דפרסיה.

לנוע באופן תמידי בין אופוריה של יצירתיות וביטחון לבין תחושה של חרדה וכישלון.

2011-04-28T17:55:00.005+02:00

אחרי צפייה ממושכות ואינטנסיבית בעונה הראשונה של מחוברות הגעתי לכמה מסקנות:

ראשית, אני מגלה הכל מאוחר. כמו שרק שנה שעברה התחלתי לשמוע פי.ג'י הארווי ועם האנטומיה של גרי בכיתי אחרי שכל העונות כבר נגמרו, אז גם את מחוברות גיליתי מאוחר. וזה לאו דווקא דבר שלילי. אני מתחברת או לא לדברים בקצב שלי. וחושבת את המחשבות שלי עליהם מתוך עצמי ולא מתוך איזשהו הייפ מסביבם.

המסקנה השנייה והחשובה יותר היא שסביר להניח שגם אני נוירוטית מספיק בשביל להיות כותבת.

אם חרדות, פחדים ומחשבות בלתי שפויות הן מה שצריך אז לי יש בשפע.

ואם יהדות, יתמות וחד מיניות, אז גם שניים מתוך שלושה זה לא רע.

ולסיום תמונה.

2011-04-05T20:47:00.002+02:00

.גיל הנעורים שלי הצליח להפתיע אותי היום

השתלשלות אירועים והמינעות מדברים שיש וכדאי לעשותם הביאה אותי לדפיוצר שלי מתחילת שנות האלפיים

איפה הייתי אז ואיפה אני היום

אלפי קילומטרים מפרידים בין מי שכתבה את כל השירים והסיפורים האלה למי שכותבת את השורות הללו

איך אז הכל נראה כל כך חשוב, כל כך דרמטי. והיום, ממרומי גילי המנוסה, זה כבר כל כך לא חשוב

?ומה זה אומר על החיים שלי עכשיו

?הרי עוד 10 שנים הדברים שהיום נדמים כל כך חשובים, יראו שוליים ומגוחכים באותה מידה, לא

...ואולי לא

אולי בנקודה מסויימת הדברים מתחילים לקבל חשיבות אחרת

והרי אי אפשר לחיות תוך מחשבה של מה ישנה או לא בעתיד, הרי אף פעם אי אפשר לדעת באיזה צד יפול הדבר

אז צריך לחיות בהווה

וכרגע השאלה הקטנה שמנקרת לי בראש נדמית הכי חשובה בעולם

!והפחד הטיפשי שמסתובב לי בבטן מרגיש הכי מפחיד שיש... אז אני מפחדת

ואולי עוד 10 שנים אני אזכר בזה ואצחק, ואולי זה יהיה מה שיקבע את העתיד, אחרי הכל לא כל מה שעשיתי בגיל 16 היה חסר חשיבות...

אז אני מחליטה להרגיש את ההווה במלוא עוצמתו, לא לבטל חשיבות של דברים בשם העתיד

אני כאן

ואני פוחדת ומתרגשת ושמחה ועצובה ואמיתית וצינית ולחוצה ומשחוררת וכותבת וזורקת לפח

...והכל במידה שווה

2011-02-24T09:42:00.001+01:00

I was going to write about my father coming to visit but my internet didn't work last night and the sentences written in my head had gone with the sleep. one thought I do remember from the small hours of the night: there is no feeling like the excitement or self satisfaction or whatever that feeling is when all of the pieces you've been cutting for days fits together. ok there are lots of feeling like it and even better ones, but still, it is pretty great!

(photo of the model will be uploaded when it will be completely done... let's hope today)

2011-02-21T22:47:00.002+01:00

I wish I knew how you do it

your one word

could turn me over

every time

I wish I knew

how to fight it

2011-02-21T01:34:00.000+01:00

I've finished my book yesterday. It had around 700 pages so for a while it was as if I'm there with the characters, living their lives in 70' till the 90' Haifa, which is basically my parents generation. my dad grew up in the same city, around that time, and the stories often corresponded, in a way I guess I was reading his story, along with the ones of most of our parents, in which ever Israeli city they lived in.

It was a really good book, one you can read a lot of in a day or a few pages a week and it would always be fine. it would always fit in your day. and it had sort of a slow easy going rhythm to it, like the nonchalant life lived by the main character, up until the last 100 pages. then it all got fast and peculiar, not in a good way. like the feeling you get when you're really exited or after you had too much coffee. and I had to read it, I wanted to read it, but the rhythm of the book, it's feeling, changed so drastically so it felt as if I am reading a different book. in a way I guess considering the plot in those 100 pages it makes sense, but I could easily managed without them. I would have left out that part of the story. which makes me wonder why was it so important to include it? did it really happened? and if so, did the whole book really happened?

anyway it's one of those book that you can't just start another one right after, you need a while to get over it, to get it out of you, or soak it in properly.

2011-02-19T01:38:00.001+01:00

I just love my ear plugs, I'd do everything with them if I could.

I got a few pairs on my trip to Norway due to some hostel noise and they are basically plugged in since then. from loud roommates to the construction site outside my window, lots of different causes taught me how to live with out sound. and I'm addicted. putting them on (or in actually) makes everything disappear, complete silence, not even white noise, like a film shot with the boom turned off. my high school film teacher never allowed it, he used to say no scene has no sound. well 60% of my day is soundless. no boom for me, thanx.

2011-02-18T01:22:00.001+01:00

the thing with handmade scarves and other stuff made out of yarn from your local market is that everything is one of a kind. the yarn you buy this friday won't be available the next one (in the rare case there was more then one ball in the beginning) so you know for sure no one has the same scarf. usually it's nice, today not so much. I've finished my third scarf, my all kind of shades of red and brown scarf, and I'm completely in love with it (inappropriately of course). tomorrow I'm giving it away. since it was made as a gift for someone specific it has to go. but it is so beautiful and soft and perfect that I had to wear it once before saying my goodbyes. so I wore it today... I feel like I'm giving away my baby. I'm never gonna be a surrogate mother.

2011-02-16T23:20:00.004+01:00

I feel like I'm not a part of anything, well anywhere is more accurate.

I don't read the news anymore. the israeli ones don't interest me as much now that I don't live there and the italian ones interest me, when it does, only as a curious since I'm not italian and the italian corruption doesn't really concern me.

I remember a lecture I heard once about how in the future the world will be a cosmopolitical place. about how society evolved over the centuries from tribes to small communities to city states to nations, and as far as evolution goes the next step is a cosmopolitical world in which we all live in a united world, we all become a part of one big community. we all care. or don't.

I used to read the whole newspaper every day, I used to argue about politics and take sides, I used to vote, I used to care. but now I kind of float, not here nor there, and I'm not sure it bothers me.

2011-02-15T22:51:00.001+01:00

sometimes I miss my military life.

getting up at 7:00, at the office at 7:30, with a cup of coffee and croissant by 8 am.

wearing the same clothes every day, eating at the same time, waking up and going to sleep early. an ordinary healthy daily routine. Sunday to Thursday. 2 years with no responsibility (after 5 pm). how so different from my life now.

coffee and stardust all around... now it's just a 35 cent coffee from the machine outside the bathroom.

not a sad thought, just a nostalgic one.

nostalgic. haven't used that word for a while... there was a time when it was one of my favorites.

2011-02-14T23:31:00.000+01:00

I can't think of one time I told someone I loved him when I really knew it to be true.

love is a feeling, an inappropriate one, and as such you always say it in the wrong time. when you say "I love you" to someone it is usually for the wrong reasons, cause the moment is right, cause you want to be in love, cause you're only saying it back, but never cause you know it. it's not that you don't feel it, the feeling has been there for a while, but the moment you know for sure that feeling is love usually comes after. and it is in that moment when you can admit to yourself, not only to others, you're in love.

I first knew I'm gonna marry R when I first saw him, I first told him I love him after he told me,I first knew I love him for sure the moment he took out the seeds from the watermelon before handing me a piece.

*originally written as a pre christmas post but never found the right time to be posted.

happy valentine's day to all you crazy kids out there.

2011-02-14T00:05:00.001+01:00

nothing.

no thoughts today.

lots of yarn and coffee.

but no thoughts.

maybe tomorrow...

2011-02-12T22:42:00.000+01:00

not too much will to write tonight, guess it was bout to happen sooner or later.

had a really good day today up until around six. coffee in the sun, absorbing in the Italian laziness, a walk in the nicer part of town, some pistachios and caramel macaroons from an exclusive store and a short break at the park.

had the best day today. then it was all ruined.

night.

2011-02-11T22:18:00.002+01:00

I feel like screaming, dancing, drinking. I feel like I'm freaking out.

I feel like going out, dance myself away, make out with some hot random guy on the dance floor.

I feel like drinking, not like thinking, then fall asleep in a minute.

I feel like doing something stupid, feel like calling my call to guy.

I feel like sitting on the bar with my best friend, getting free drinks, flirting around.

only my best friend lives a millions mile away and not that best anymore.

only milan's pubs don't have bars but table.

only my call to guy now need more then a call to come over.

only I'm now responsible, not 17 anymore, and it is already too late to scream.

so I'm freaking out quietly, responsibly.

2011-02-10T22:14:00.006+01:00

I got a house today

a small black and white house

with some blue and red around the edges

a simple house

the kind children draw without pulling the pen from the paper

I put it on a black shelf

a plain black and white house on a black shelf

white wall

make me feel like home

2011-02-09T20:53:00.006+01:00

so I've been working in the library all day and I was a bit preoccupied that I won't have anything to write about for today but as it turned out even a 2 minutes experience in a very ordinary day can make me put together sentences in my head, in a very literary way.

since I now knit (a whole different post for some other day) and I get to watch more internet tv than usual, well you gotta do something while you knit, my shows all run out of new episodes. so searching for a new one to start watching (preferably one with already a few seasons aired, suggestions are always welcome) I watched the beginnings of some first episodes of a bunch of high ranked series, looking for one to pull me in, to be my next grey's anatomy. found it.

now as I see it a tv series is a lot like a book, some may not appeal to you, most of them just need a few episodes / chapter to drag you in, and some... some just get you from the very first sentence.

I read a lot of really good books over the last years, and although to the best of them it took a little while to get to me, the ones that had me right away were the ones to leave the deepest impression.

if you'll ask me which book you should read, which is my favorite, my first choice won't be one of those (well maybe the sixth or so). but even though, they still hold a place in my heart, just for that very first sentence.

*a self critique about today's thought:

kind of all over the place, I could have definitely organize it better. I didn't. sounds more like speaking and less like writing... guess I'm beatnik today. go Bukowski!

2011-02-08T22:03:00.003+01:00

the daily thought.

ok so this is a new project, which suppose to make me write every day. the "what" is not important. a thought, an opinion, a poem, a science fiction story, whatever. one post a day, every day.

starting now.

a second person sweaty thoughts:

you went to the gym today at "rush hour" and it was full with hot bodies, along side of old ones, but mostly hot bodies. every one was checking out everyone. glances in the mirrors, smiles at the staircase. and everyone was feeling good about themselves. them skinny sweaty selves. so it kind of stick to you too. even though you only walk while most of them run, even though you only lift 15 instead of 25. but you are walking, and your all sweaty in the mirror, and the song in your ears is just right, so for those 60 minutes in the gym you feel hot.

2011-02-01T23:13:00.003+01:00

from all the adjective I can think of, my life on high heels is mostly unstable but in a good way

2011-01-25T22:08:00.003+01:00

a year ago, around this time, first semester of the second year, I spent most of my nights autocading with a massive attack playlist in the background.

as the semester went on my mind learned to connect that playlist to a wide range of feelings such as stress, anxiety and so on... till a point where I can no longer hear it without feeling anxious, even when lying calmly in my bed.

as today went on I can ho ahead and play those songs, anxiety is far behind me, and my autocad can use a familiar soundtrack.

2011-01-21T21:08:00.001+01:00

Society is afraid of photography.

It, photography that is, explode in one's face.

So it, society, defense itself with one of two mechanisms: it makes an art out of it or trivialize it.

(alessandra chemollo - fuori_vista)

2010-11-23T22:59:00.004+01:00

First doctor: you have an infection. take this and this and this and if it doesn't pass come back in a month.

Second doctor (after a month): I see. it didn't pass. continue taking that and come back in a month to check out exactly what infection it is that you've got.

Third doctor (yet after another month): the result will be ready in 10 days. then, go see a doctor in order to get the needed treatment. we can fit you in next month.

could have already died 3 times... I hate Italy!

I miss my doctor dad.

2010-11-09T00:38:00.004+01:00

לתמונות אמא / לאה גולדברג

:תמונתך כה שלווה. את אחרת

.קצת גאה ונבוכה על שאת - אמי

מלווה בדמעה ובחיוך מוותרת

?"ומעולם אינך שואלת "מי

לא תמהת, לא רגזת, עת באתי אליך

!"מדי יום ביומו ואמרתי: "תני

את הכל הבאת לי במו ידייך

.רק מפני שאני - אני

ויותר ממני את היום זוכרת

:את יגון-ילדותי, ונפשך כבר פתרה

,עת תבוא אליך הבת הבוגרת

.היא תביא את יאוש תוגתה שבגרה

.כן. אבוא רצוצה ולא אשאל לשלומך

!"לא אבכה בחיקך, לא אלחש: "אמי

:את תדעי

זה שעזבני היה לי יקר ממך

?"ולא תשאליני: "מי

.תמיד מפתיעים אותי הדברים שאני "בוחרת" לזכור מאירועים מסויימים, מילים מסויימות משיר שקראתי לפני שנים

.ועוד יותר מפתיעים אותי הרגעים בהם הם בוחרים להתגלות

2010-11-07T02:20:00.004+01:00

for each sad thing I cry twice

the first cry for the thing

the second, when I start wondering if I'm insane

to cry about that

2010-11-03T19:57:00.004+01:00

I remember my room back home, where I had my own bathroom for the first (and only) time. It was pretty small and minimalist and had a small square a bit broken mirror above the sink. That bathroom never did fit the rest of my room. It wasn't pretty or ikea accessorized like the other spaces (spaces, what an architectural word). It practically had nothing in it; toilet, a small corner shower, gray sink and that mirror. Toothbrush, toothpaste. No makeup, no perfumes. It was there, just before the shower, where I used to stand naked every day, staring at my reflection. And it was that mirror that made me feel fragile every day. It was the small square, the broken corners, that made me feel insane.

And I liked it. I liked that five minutes feeling, it was a part of who I was.

My nails are currently polished in an almost invisible light pink color. It's writing this post that makes me look at my fingers right now. And it's this light pink color that makes me feel fragile and insane.

Can't say I hate it.

2010-10-23T19:23:00.006+02:00

this week's goods and bads:

been to Ivrea for a photography festival. v

get to see a few nice films, haven't done that in a while. v

had a win over the building administrator. v

singlehandedly opened the clogged shower. v

had a really bad review at class. x

didn't really care. xx

used my bike quite a lot. v

eat a whole pringles pack by myself, not in one day, but still. x

went to see two gyms. v

haven't made a decision yet. x

finished a great book in only one week. v

talked to my sister after a while. v

taking her advice, stopped consuming milk in all its forms. v

broke after one day, the next one began with a coffee. x

putting it this way I guess it's been a good week.

tomorrow a Francesca Woodman exhibition. probably gonna be a v.

some more biennale pics.

2010-10-03T20:44:00.005+02:00

la biennale di venezia 2010

more photos coming up soon

2010-09-23T16:34:00.008+02:00

art is always so much more interesting if you can walk into it. especially if it has mirrors, and you have a camera.

2010-09-17T16:29:00.007+02:00

photo by kri fartida

כל פעם שהתרגזת או הרמת את הקול,

.כל פעם שזרקת הערה כועסת למישהו גרמת לי לאהוב אותך קצת פחות

לא, זה לא נכון. גרמת לי לרצות לאהוב אותך קצת פחות.

גרמת לי לראות את החיים שלי בלעדייך.

היית כל כך כועס כל הזמן, גם בלי סיבה מיוחדת, לא רציתי להיות עם מישהו שכועס כל הזמן.

כל פעם שהרמת את הקול הבנתי את זה קצת יותר.

כל פעם זה נשאר לי עמוק בבטן.

כשצועקים עלי אני מרגישה רע.

גם אם אני יודעת שלא עשיתי שום דבר, גם אם אני יודעת שזו סתם תופעת לוואי של משהו אחר.

כשמגעילים אלי אני מרגישה רע.

גם אם לא נחמדים לאף אחד אחר, גם אם רק שותקים כדי לא לפגוע יותר.

כשאני רבה עם מישהו אני מרגישה רע.

גם אם שנינו אשמים, ביחוד אם אמרנו דברים שצריך לקחת חזרה.

וכשאני מרגישה רע אני רק מרגישה רע.

אני לא יכולה להתרכז או לאכול או להירדם.

אני לא יכולה להפסיק להרגיש רע.

זה מתרוצץ לי בבטן.

2010-09-09T23:55:00.003+02:00

I read a really good poem on the New Stage website earlier and wanted to give it a 5.
but I couldn't find the rating button.
I could however "like" it on facebook.
somebody wrote down her tears and soul.
neatly organized them in lines and paragraphs.
no dots
just feelings.
so we can all like them on facebook.
I didn't.

2010-08-13T01:00:00.003+02:00

"...ואני אבקש ממנה חבקי אותי, הכל הולך לי לעזאזל..."

2010-07-11T23:35:00.007+02:00

Do you know that feeling when you're on your bike, the wind is just right, it's not too hot, it's not too cold, and then you get on your mp3's shuffle one of your favorites songs. Out of the thousand you have, you get your favorite song. And it fits just right, with the bike and the wind and the day...

Do you know that feeling when it happens to you, and you think to yourself "how did I get so lucky?"

That's how I feel every time I look at you...

How the hell did I get so lucky?

That's how I feel every time I look at you, talk to you, touch you, think of you. Like my favorite song, you always fit just right.

2010-07-07T19:03:00.002+02:00

silence has kind of a weird sound

2010-06-30T20:29:00.003+02:00

i shouldn't feel bad about it

i won't feel bad about it

i don't feel bad about it

i don't

dammit

2010-06-28T18:00:00.002+02:00

No text today, no inspiration. I guess I'm happy.

2010-06-21T23:35:00.006+02:00

I found this photo a few days ago and thought I should post it

I saw this a few hours ago
it seems that we often feel the same
as always, I wrote down some of her lines
sometimes,
someone else can describe you better

photo by my gorgeous guy

2010-06-12T20:53:00.004+02:00

Sometimes I feel like a little girl. even when I know it's stupid and I know there is nothing I could do about it, still sometimes I feel just like a little girl and I want to stop everything and cry.
Once I went to the market with my dad and right in the middle of all the last minute friday night shopping i saw a little girl in a little dress, sitting inside the shopping cart, crying and screaming her lungs out. I was so jealous. that was all I wanted to do back there as well. stop everything and cry. but I didn't, cause I'm an adult. and I didn't wear a dress that day.

About 5 years ago I went to the supermarket with a friend and I got inside the shopping cart while he drove it around to find the milk. I was already fully grown, what made it all the more fun.

2010-06-07T23:29:00.002+02:00

I am now the owner of a very valuable and dangerous information.
gladly, I am not tempted to use it what so ever.
so that's how trust feels...

2010-05-30T21:56:00.004+02:00

Every time I look in the mirror I seems to myself more and more like my mom.
A strange thing to say considering I have no idea how did she look like.
Every time I look in the mirror I feel a bit like her.
A bit like she is in my imagination.
Today, more than yesterday, I feel like she did.
Like she felt that friday night, sitting in her room, listening to what ever record she had on, catching up on her (not e)mail, writing in her journal.
I don't remember what she wrote about nor who, but the feeling she didn't even describe stuck with me.
And just now, looking in the mirror, I feel to myself more and more like my mom.

2010-05-21T13:45:00.005+02:00

There is this guy who writes poems. And I can read them over and over. I do read them over and over. Just a simple average guy, living close to where i used to live, doing more or less the same thing I'm doing. Happy, sad, smiling, crying, living, most of the time. Writing. Better than i could ever write.
So I'm reading. And every poem, every line, feels like it was written by me. As if it is my life and my memories and my pain, my uncontainable joy that drips the ink on his pieces of paper.

http://stage.co.il/Authors/14503

2010-05-16T23:55:00.006+02:00

Today has been ok. Actually today was rough. By the time I got home I was already broken, still, pieces of me kept shattering on the carpetless floor as the day passed by.

2010-05-12T23:23:00.007+02:00

A few days ago was my guy's birthday and I've been trying to write his birthday post for almost a week. I wanted to write him 27 things I like about him, but I could only come up with nine. Nine things I like about him which aren't too silly to share. That made me realize I don't know him that well. It doesn't surprise me but it does scare me, because each one of those nine things makes me love him. And each new thing I learn about him makes me love him a bit more. Thinking of all the things I still don't know, I'm afraid I might not be able to hold it all inside, as even now, with only nine little things, I feel like screaming most of the time.

thanx to opher for the shoots.

2010-04-30T09:19:00.007+02:00

happy birthday to the one who made photos on this blog possible, and gave me more than just my canon.

2010-04-21T18:37:00.002+02:00

sharing a smile with a man in a ridiculously yellow suit on a light blue bicycle... one of those things that makes your day.

2010-04-20T20:47:00.005+02:00

I've noticed that usually when I'm dating a new guy I'm describing him as the prettiest in the whole world (no good way to say it in english, sounds so much better in hebrew), which got me thinking why does he have to be? why do I feel the need to describe him as such? why don't I say things as they are? nothing wrong with dating an average looking guy, so why does mine always have to be the fairest of them all?

I can't help it though, to me he is. you are.

2010-04-08T00:36:00.003+02:00

once I read a story about a man who's walking in some park and he sees a girl crying on a bench. he doesn't know what to do, starts pretending he's texting on his phone, trying not to be nosy, not to look at her, but wanting to help her at the same time. as a girl who had her share of benches I still don't know what to do when I see someone else crying. hell, I don't even know what to do when I'm crying. I saw a girl crying on a stair today.

2010-04-05T23:21:00.005+02:00

yesterday I met the guy I'm gonna marry. he has this great smile. from the very first sight I thought to myself, if he will only ask, I'll go anywhere with him. that's the first time I thought that about someone I don't even know, I'm usually a reasonable person. haven't thought that even about guys I was in love with, who were more than willing to go anywhere I'll take them. but he... he should just say the word.

2010-03-27T15:31:00.007+01:00

Just as real events are forgotten, some that never were can be in our memories as if they happened (Memories of My Melancholy Whores)

nothing like red nail polish and black tights to make you feel like a bitch.

2010-03-24T22:42:00.004+01:00

earlier i did something without thinking it through first. but i guess most good things start up like that. this one however was kind of stupid and got me nowhere. i don't regret doing it though. it had to be done. and all i can say now is oh well...

i love it when movies or books starts with a voice-over. when a movie does you hear it right away, but when a book does you have to feel it, and to me that feeling is a bit sad.

maybe that's why every time i'm sad thoughts run through my head in a voice-over kind of way.

Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed- interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing sprit- crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life... But why would I want to do a thing like that?

one of my favorite voice-overs. no connection to my mood, well maybe a little.

random thoughts from a short journey

2010-03-12T01:03:00.012+01:00

end of the semester buzz, makes me forget all of my doubts, fears. in the fashion street in budapest, drinking a white chocolate mocha with cream, eating a piece of the best pecan chocolate caramel cake ever. I'm in a coffee heaven. definitely. it's the little things that makes me happy.

so I've been visiting my brother for four days. hanging around with his friends, drinking and eating mostly, hungarian style. met some really great people. my brother among them. he has changed a lot since the last time I saw him. in a good way. I guess I have as well. not so sure in which way though. after a few nights in a few pubs, where I talked with a few people, he told me that I'm very different from him in that way. he is usually really quiet in those situations. not that I was loud, but I did strike up conversations with those around me, unfortunately that's not a very usual thing in my current italian life. maybe it was the end of the semester buzz or maybe I just felt more comfortable (surrounded by some "combat guys" so lacking in milan), but it came rather naturally. got me back home for a few days. which was nice.

opened my 23 birthday with hot chocolate and cherry cake in the only coffee place in the second largest city in hungary. not that big at all. no dancing into daylight, no drinking till dawn. still, one of the best birthday mornings.

2010-03-09T22:02:00.008+01:00

kind of makes me think of all the rain forest...

a few things I've discovered in the last week of the semester :

* sleeping is way overrated

* but be sure to catch up on it before it's too late

* brown sugar can keep me up better than coffee

* it takes half a tube of plastic glue to make your fingerprints disappear

* and about two days to get them back

* always try, you never know how things will turn out

2010-02-20T20:29:00.004+01:00

red scarf , extended series

2010-02-10T21:13:00.005+01:00

today my hair is finally the way i want it to be, so i'm pretty happy with the new haircut for the firs time.

moving on to more important things.

for a really long time i used to say that the only thing i have from my mom is one red scarf. although that is not true anymore (since now i'm old enough to get her jewellery) i still like that thought and earlier a friend tackled me when she asked if it is hand made. it is. or it isn't. i don't know. never thought about it. how could i have never thought about it? not that anybody would have an answer, but still.

it's not that i miss her, it's just that i would like to know more. who was she. what did she like to do. what music did she listened to. what was her favorite book. her favorite movie. was she happy growing up. was she sad. did she cry or get mad. what made her smile. what did she write about with that pen in that picture. was it a latter or a poem. did she write. did she sing outside the shower. in the shower. what was her best dish. the one she always made in special events. her favorite ice cream flavour. how old was she when she had her first kiss. her first sex. what did she always wanted to do but never did. what was her "till 25" to do list. how many things have she got done.

2010-02-04T23:27:00.004+01:00

Today I'm ambivalent, in the wrong sense of the word.

I don't care.

It means I don't care. That's what it means.

anyway, I made this photo for a friend's birthday (and a bit to avoid studying).

2 points and my sincere admiration to who ever "gets it" first.

a different kind of homage

2010-01-22T21:19:00.008+01:00

Went to Steve McCurry's exhibition today, which got me googling other photography related thing afterward. Among all the photo and names I noticed the one Edward Weston took of his young wife in 1937 and it kind of jumped out of the other because a few years ago I was photographed in almost the same position. Back then I was told that it's an homage to some photographer. Of course I didn't remember his name, it didn't interest me that much at the time, don't think I even asked to see the original photo.

But now it does. Even without a photographer by my side (or maybe because of that) I slowly get to know that world, name by name, photo by photo.

For an uncanceled number of year I was consistently taught about light, diaphragm, depth of field and other stuffs i had very little interest in knowing how they work. I didn't mind listening though, as long as I got to snap the button.

Now, however, I find myself asking about those things, talking about them with other camera owners, going to places just to take some photos.

I guess like everything else I just needed to get here in my own time.

2010-01-05T18:22:00.006+01:00

Through the looking glass - a one day spontaneous project

"Well, in our country," said Alice, still panting a little, "you'd generally get to somewhere else if you ran very fast for a long time, as we've been doing."
"A slow sort of country!" said the Queen. "Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!"

(Lewis Carroll)

2010-01-04T13:57:00.010+01:00

Went out with my roommate to a weird off center place to here a "Game Boy music" concert. By that I mean a music composed and played live right out of an old 90' style Super Mario Game Boy.

I drank beer though I wanted tea and spent most of the night trying to convince my canon to take some photos without flash. It was kind of nice sitting there on the pillowed floor while in the background some guy kept on winning mushrooms on his way to save the princess.

2010-01-01T03:08:00.004+01:00

Kings of Convenience - I'd rather dance with you

travis | MySpace Video

Went out dancing. Despite the aching muscles I danced myself away. The basses got me thinking.

I would like my first new year resolution to be simply to be happy. Not that simple though. Since my happiness is the sum of more than a few fraction it is no longer depends on my decision only. That promise is not entirely mine to make.

Therefore, my first new year resolution, scratch that, my first new decade resolution, is to dance more. That simple.

2009-12-31T12:20:00.006+01:00

I've failed myself. failed in documenting every important aspect of my life. I left the camera at home while I disassembled, packed and drove my life close away. I've failed in capturing my life on the move. piled up down the stairs. compressed into one second class van. leaned against the lift's wall. they are now a bit fragile, my life that is, all boxed up in the hallway.

walking down the stairs this morning (morning, let's call it noon), my body's all tied up due to some heavy lifting, I remembered the talk I had with some guy about seven years ago and how we agreed that when you love doing something you just get out there and do it, no matter how aching or hurting you are. back then we talked about dancing but I can't help but thinking why was it so hard to get out of bed this morning.

happy new year

2009-12-27T01:50:00.002+01:00

Today I was a lonely British girl

I was a three days ago version of me

I was a fragile version of what I used to be

I was me

the most me I can be

I think I probably have too much faith in people...

2009-12-26T11:11:00.004+01:00

you ship them -

little paper boats,

into the sea.

they pass the waves

across the horizon,

you don't see them anymore,

hope they won't sink

hope they'll make it to the shore

you stand there, staring, wondering

turning, walking away

here's another end.

Not mine. Borrowed and translated.

2009-12-24T10:25:00.003+01:00

Waking up early on a wet and rainy morning. Going to extend a staying permit to a place where I'm not sure I want to be in, so I can study a profession which I'm not sure I want to practice. Without the one person who I'm sure I want to be with. Merry Christmas.

2009-12-20T11:35:00.009+01:00

A few days ago was the first real snow of the winter. Even before I knew it was coming I bought fruits and dark chocolate to make a fondue, and some kid's packed apple juice to mix with wine and cinnamon. After the snow came I remembered the first (and only) snow 2 years ago when I went to some friend's place to eat deeped in chocolate fruits, and how she wanted to make a tradition out of it and do it every time it snows. At the end my guy didn't come, got stuck across the city due to the heavy snow... so much for fondue night... at least I finally saw "Almost Famous". I wanted to see that for a while but could never found it online.

2009-12-13T18:01:00.007+01:00

well a new blog, the second one actually, hope it will last longer than the first one did. I can already tell exactly who's gonna read it... maybe few others...

me in the mirror, posing my new 30' hat, with my not so new (but definitely unused) red lipstick, in my soon to be old room.

I photoshoped the background (cause it's prettier) and the focus, which unfortunately is almost always a problem when I'm not using a flash. at least now I know how to fix it. still can't succeed in leaving only one color in the photo though.