The Rain came down

So this is a deluge. A flood in the making.
Non stop rain for days , something has to give in a house made of plaster walls and who knows what on the roof.
I have already established that had I brought an engineer I wouldnt have bought this place, but anyone who has been here knows this would have been a sad mistake.
So, dust yourself off ( ah, so you think there is no dust here when it rains ? hmmm) pick yourself up, ( after slipping on the wet floors) and wait for the rain to stop to find someone to fix the leak in the roof in all three places, and find out why the drains are not working if they arent blocked, so that the water is seeping through the wall to the window frame.

OR, wait till the rain stops and summer comes and worry about it next year.

Whatever.


Oh and by the way if you have a recommendation for someone who fixes this kind of thing in Pardes Hanna area, do tell. I might do it before next winter then.

"Do I look ok?"

This images are of prefire, wet painted greenware

The internal dialogue of self image, comes up in various degrees of understanding and depth, for most women, at various stages of our lifetime.
The weight issue I have been dealing with for so long keeps surfacing and it is partly to do with self image, and much to do with many other elements of emotional status.
Today it popped up in the studio with these two whimsical pieces asking "Do I look OK?"
Realizing that everywoman asks that question regardless of how thin or fat she is, how beautiful and young, or old and worn she is, is not something that happened today.
Working on these two women with many faults, assymetries and insecurities, is one more step towards self acceptance and enjoying my life.

My Ceramic Keepers of the Secrets

These clay "bottles" hold and guard treasured secrets.

Secrets are a huge responsibility. If you are given one to keep, sometimes you might be tempted to give it away at a crucial moment, buying a moment's grace and losing trust forever.
People might like to own a keeper of secrets so that they can better contain and hold those secrets entrusted to them, or those moments they hold dear and do not wish to share or lose.

These guards of the bottles are not necessarily scary monsters, frightening away secret snatchers.They are reminders of innocent trust and therefore a little primitive and somewhat childishly wide eyed.

Stormy, bleak election day

The storm that blew through election day yesterday, hailed, hammered and rained - the only storm we have seen this winter. The universe warning us of things to come . The storm knocked over more than my sun umbrella and hailed on more than my pot plants, ruining any hope we had of change . It blew in, (along with the broken branches, garbage and mud) Bibi .

Today the sun is shining with no sign of yesterday's stormy weather aside from the windswept surfaces. Blue skies. Wiped clean. Just like the collective memory we have of Bibi as prime minister the previous time.

What other explanation is there for him being voted into power again?

Early morning Sundial

These are the sun spots that hit this wall in my bedroom when I wake up with the blinds partially closed, at various times of the early morning during the 4 months that I have been here.
The sun strikes that wall between 6 and 8 am with a slightly different shape each time. From the day I first woke up in this bedroom, I couldn't resist grabbing a pencil and marking the spots - thinking that it would be a sundial to tell the time as soon as I opened my eyes in the morning. The variety was so great that a difference of a few seconds meant a whole new shape and placement.
Sometimes they had moved by the time I could mark the row from top to bottom.
When the sun got too low in the winter , I painted the ones already marked.

The sculpture is simply on an existing screw in the wall but I like her there with her imperfection