Saturday, December 18, 2010

Two days ago I went for a snowy island jog and it was magic. While I ran snowflakes fell onto my face and melted and the lake looked turquoise or silver like an ocean in the winter or something but it was half frozen and icicles covered the breakwater boulders. It sounds cheesy but it made me feel so happy! I listened to the Knife and ran as fast as I could on the boardwalk and felt like I was on some sort of a deserted island (uuuuh..) what's up with this place?! Jeez. One day more people are going to find out about the island and then what?


When I was nineteen my boyfriend lived in the mountains and we'd wake up in the morning to thick fog creeping up the valley and his two dogs barking in unison and rainbows shooting up over moons.


His dogs were named Gush ("Lump") and Patrick. I called Patrick "Paprik" because of his red fur. That's me on the rooftop with Gush and Paprik writing my memoirs in my head. I had long hair then and it was black.


Sukkot (harvest celebration) in the kibbutz. Everyone's eating ice cream while waiting around for the horse ride. We still don't know whether stripey shirt is me or Xenia because we shared that shirt. Look at my mom's awesome yellow pants! I met a girl that day who was younger than me but she spoke better Hebrew and was mean and condescending. But then I stopped paying attention to her and she suddenly wanted to be my friend. Hmmmm.


When I was a kid my parents would team up with the neighbours and take us somewhere pretty where we could swim and hang out. Sometimes we brought along my dad's video camera and made murder mystery movies.


Mom! This place was very special. It was a natural spring and the water was clean enough to drink.


Our neighbour Tzofit. When we moved to Canada she was twelve but recently I found her on facebook and she's like twenty two and smokes cigarettes and she even served in the army?! Time warp.


In highschool sleepovers became less about playing fun games or recording fake radio shows and more about leaky black make up, mean games, tears, parents' liquor cabinets, drunk haircuts, trash talking, lauren hill and the cranberries on the stereo.


Orna and Yonni during olive-picking. My friend Sharon's family lived in this remote artist village and had olive trees on their property. When you just pick the olive it's a hard little thing - you can't even crack it with your teeth. I tried to anyway and it was sour and gross and hurt my jaw!


Two weeks before Canada we packed all of our precious possessions in these cardboard boxes and shipped them over. All I remember is going through bags of letters and cards and photos making two piles: 1) garbage 2)cardboard box, while my best friend lied on my bed and cried. I think I cried too. How depressing!


Sunrise from our front porch, 1998. My dad used to wake me up at 5am and we'd drive to the forest with the dog for a long morning walk. We'd come home as the sun was coming up and I would wait for my parents to go to work and sneak to the porch for a smoke before getting ready for school.


I came back for a visit less than three months after we moved to Canada, right on time for the second intifada. There were bullet holes in traffic lights and demonstrations at large intersections. In the meantime, Sharon gives me a drunken piggyback-ride right before I fly back to Toronto.


Oh hello there different times! Ruta and Zeesy, circa 2004


Farm activities: splicing film //drawing comics. I wonder if Sarah Richardson will ever come back?
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OK my captions are getting shorter because I'm losing interest also I have to go it's Saturday night byeeeeeeeeeeeeee LOVE!

1 comment:

kat said...

I love this post!