Saturday, April 15, 2006

hollocaust.

recently i went to the Tel Aviv museum alone. most of my friends are busy. they have love ones, problems. im not blaming anyone, im happy or sad for them. but in these times that im alone and no one is calling me to hang out or interested in me, i can't help that lonelyness is whispering in my ear. "they don't love you" it says. "they forgot of you", "it was all a hoax", "what did they find in you anyway". i really can't believe to this day, that anyone can love me. it seems so weird. what do they love in me? how do they love something in me which i loath? questions that are way from answer. because even if a shrill and sharp answer will truely come from someone, my ears are mostly blunt, because it seems erational that someone could love something in me. that's why i really need a hug and an honest word.

i walked in the museum and enjoyed the instalations. all of the time i felt as though i have to talk to someone, to share this with someone. i wanted to talk to someone. life is ment for more then one mind, im sure.

one of the halls was michal rovner's installations. i love that artist very much. she is so talented and her works can really open my emotional gates and let them flow.

one work of michal that i did previously- has managed to change something in me. it truely connected me to one of our people's (and other nations) painfull ordeals. it was known as the jewish genocide (and homosexuals and gypsy and freethinkers and more) . we call it "the hollocaust".

most of the times, my relations with the hollocaust turned from respectfully slight interest to respectfully no interest. i wasn't that much interested. i can remember how in school we were always gathered by the teachers in the main hall to participate in the those ceremonies with the same cliche's, same barb wires drawings and illustration's of auswitz's gate, same pictures of the victims and paper yellow patches hanged on the school's walls, same annoying songs and poems. those horrible teachers always watched on the boys so that they won't behave in an unapropriate way or god forbid - go away. i felt that were forced to honot the victims. like that scene in "the clockwork orange" where alex is forced to watch a movie with his eyelids always open by a mechanical device. in highschool we were taking to a boring day in the "getto warior's" kibutz and went to an entire boring seminar. all of my life i was forced to read and learn and tested on the statistics of killing, and so in my mind the subject of the hollocaust turned into a cold, statistical matter. most of the statistics i struggled to squeeze into my head in order to pass the final history test, were wiped from my head. i remember i felt even when we were forced as kids to sit in the blazing sun and watch the ceremonies, that this isn't supposed to be like that. that this connection should be coming from inside of me. that this connetion should be emotional.

lately i was going with my class to "yad vashem" museum (that commemorates the hollocaust) in order to learn more about these events, so we can design posters that will be exhibited in the museum. in the entrance was michal rovner's video art. it's a movie that is consisted of many parts patched together in a perfect "photoshop" like way, taken from original movies that were taken prior to the hollocaust. it showed parts of the jewish life in europ prior to the hollocaust. tiny pieces that make out the whole, that emphasise this entire world that was tragically lost.

when i was faced infront of this innocent, exciting, whole world, and understand the proportion of this loss, the amounts of lifes, emotions, people, taken, i bursted in tears. i cried for the victims. i was connected. no yellow patches, no cliche's, no detailed witnesses of cold and hunger and death, no victim's pictures.
only this experience of what was before. only that they were and now they are gone. now i can truely understand whay it's called "hollocaust". when i saw and heard children in a school singing "hatikva" (which is our anthem), even if i was crying, i felt i was bursting even more with tears. my cry was honest, it came from down below. i understanded.
and then i felt that the entire hollocaust education i went down so far, was null and void in front of this work. one work could do what the entire didn't.
i can't really say i blame anyone in the educational system. i can't. it was something personal.

we left this video art and guided through the rest of the "yad vashem" museum that was really interesting and impressing, but for me it wasn't as real as rovner's work. me and my friends got out of the museum, telling black jokes on the hollocaust and laughed in order to cope. we asked from the teacher if there is enough time to see that work again, and we did. we saw it again and i bursted into tears and cherished it. then we got out, exhausted, telling more jokes and laughing. and to me it was good to connect to the trauma, but celebrate life afterwards.
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when i walked in the Tel Aviv museum, enjoying the art, i remembred of that fact i understood lately that i get no pleasure of school design project, and much pleasure from making art. how the school experience is a coctail of short success, insecurity and failure.
i remembered how instead of homework i "run" to make art.
i felt as if "it" was calling me. how being an artist, expressing myself, be true to myself is calling me, like a siren. i watched one of michal's instalations that contained rows of small figures moving in courdenance projected on two big slabs of stones. i remembered that design studies were a kind of stepping stones to art school. how design was more a trade for life than a desire. and how i got into it more and more, and discovered the enrichment and pleasure of typography. but art was always there. a passion, a goal, a shining sun. im not regreting about the design studies. i love it. but i really want to be an artist.

i won't quit school. although im in a crisis, i love it. i love design, but i love art even more.

Could have, should have, would have

a week has passed over since the passover holyday and it was quite hard to harness myself to do some of the enormous projects laid upon us. but now it's less stressing to do the homework because time isn't lashing you to be creative. i discover i have some will power and i manage to do some homework, but it's far less the advantage i really want to. there is this entire graphic identity for my college, designing a bottle label that i was too much stressed to do, doing two drawings that i've been avoiding in fear of mediocracy, a whole advertorial campaign about teens helping each other, a site about bolywood's music, etc etc etc. and all of that will be (yea right) squeesed into this week. so now im more scared.

recently i talked with some friends about all my homeworks. my friend said that she's happy she's not a student. for me this was something like laughing at me (but not such a big deal). it's because somehow, when i look further this week, i really can't see myself studying and enjoying. and furthermore i ask myself - do you want to be a designer?

earlier - in the first year of my design school, i had a clear vision of what i wanted to do. i excelled in everything i did, i invested tons of effort to be the best in projects and between fellow students. along that came a great inferiority feelings that came with my failure of acceptance to other, more popular schools. for me it was a tragedy that drive me to excell and to prove the world i can do it better. between students i was and still am a some kind of genious. i wanted to succeed so much.

now im so tired of the race.now im no success, more fears the psychotherapy session i had wiped this will to succeed and left me a kind of partly ruined but more truthfull man. i faced some of myself, my worst self, my buried seld. someone that underneath the polished layers of marble felt like sewer soaked earth. now i can see the truth, but i feel weaker.
lately i had REAL trouble of being creative and successful. some works were good, sometimes bad and mediocre, and sometimes the fear of failure has kept me from advancing in the phases everyone had gone through in the class. many times i brought no sketches to the class, and it hurts you.

in the other hand im more easy on myself. failure sometimes seems like something normal that happens sometimes. sometimes. im at a transitional phase.

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im quite happy that almost no one reads this blog (besides of cute deity ^_^) . that meens that im less worried and obsessed with how many people actualy red my blog. there is no critique, and i can continue writing my mediocre writing, my fears, my problems (and with a slight dimention of censurship), and enjoy being mediocre.

Saturday, April 08, 2006

happy as it is

it's now the beginning of the passover weekend. two weeks of un school days, and although it's filled with projects, i feel more at ease. i just hope i'll have enough inner power to do stuff and not waste time.

i found out that im not pleased of my creativity when im designing/creating for a customer, for school and when there are qritiques awaiting. i most happy when i create art for myself. in this last year i learned how not to look at myself and say - "why can't you be more productive, why can't you create more art, there are many things that i should do, etc...". nowadays i let art come from inside of me when it wants, when im happy or sad. but i don't push it. it comes.

im never happy from my schoolwork as im happy with my art.
and from this perspective, all of the designs i do for school are the oposite. im never happy, never confident. sometimes im so afraid of not succeeding - that i can't design. this is my crisis. in the first year i wanted to get all grades straight A. but it was rather exhausting. i had to pretend im a superman, a god who knows anything, and that's maybe the reason i lacked friends from school. now im in a crisis, but slowly im begining to feel more comfort with whatever comes, good or bad. im still in the process, and my competitiveness and jealosy prevent me from creating and deepen my horor, but i fight.

today i went with my brother to a TEE market. we saw awesome t-shirt designs, cool kids in highschool with immense talent and wonderful strokes. i can't say i saw something new. but alltogether i can't say a bad word. i enjoyed seeing the designs. but i came with no will to buy anything (i guess that i don't like markets)- i enjoyed waliking with my little brother. i bought two cool shirts and my brother bought two lovely things.

later we went by foot from abrabanel street (where the market was, in "haoman" club) to the old city of jaffa.
i like that place. it has the spirit of palestina in a way, before it became israel. old buildings with pointed, gothic like arches and soft stones. interesting people - israelis, arab and tourist from around the world. the flee market - my kind of mall - was closed because it was sabbath, when most stores are closed. i like to go to the flee market. you can find any trash you like in a descent price. i once bought a tiny pea-green ceramic vase, some cool old books for my collages and really old bottles for a very low price. whenever i want to pamper myself, i take some 30 shekels atmost and go to the market. i pass on the passages that are cramped with old sales men with really old stands that are filled with every kind of cool junk you'd ever want. old memorabilias, tiny sculptures, soda siphon, old machinery, festively colored cloths, strange clothes, piles of hats, etc. they are too goddamn errogant and expensive. instead i go to what i call "the slums".

on a specialy cleared part of the market people are welcomed to spread their goods on the floor and trade stuff in low price. this is a kind of end on the economic food chain. the boutiues are the first, then the mall shops, then ordinary shops on the street, then those stands owners on passages, and then the jaffa fleemarket's slums. but there you can find good stuff in a low price.

i continue with my brother. we buy some juice in a nearby juice stand and walk upwards, towards a small section which contains some of the old city, and is widely toured. we stare at the meditteranean and enjoy the view. i enjoyed the east so much, and heard in my mind some fine songs of egyptian artist which i love, like muhammad sultan and om kholthoum. we went throught the small ancient alleys and harbour.
this place, tel aviv and jaffa, i feel so natural here. i feel as i should live here in tel aviv. such a magical place. it's alive and sizzling.
now im quite happy.
im not worrying about homeworks or failure or sleep. i enjoy.
The Chronicles of Vendolusia