Art By Tali Landsman

Thank you my friend William Mclenachan, for your wonderful comment. I actually enjoy reading your long comments. They always provoke me to think deeper and wider and to explore new subjects. In the comment you left on my note: “25 random things about me”, you brought up the fascinating question of “What is the mission of art?” or “What is the higher role of an artist in society?” Without a doubt it is NOT only about expanding conversations about social taboos. It can be as elementary as bringing the shapes, light and color of a landscape or a place that holds a memory for the artist, to shocking people out of their sleepwalking and tardiness. The role of art in society, is as diverse as the number of artists that there are around, playing with their mediums. Each has his/ her own role to play, and people to touch....... vision to offer. A great example come to my mind right now, as I am writing this,..... One of my favorite artist is Marina Abramovic. She started her career as a painte

Recently I encouraged my girlfriend Sooz, to post her own, very revealing list of 25 Things you usually do not share with the wide world (some do not even share it with their intimate friends.) She was brave enough to do so, in a comment on my note called "25 random things about me". To thank her for her courage, I commented with my own new list of revealing things, and found myself admitting to a passionate love affair that I had with a motorcycling guy. I promised to tell the story.... So here it is... Yes, ANOTHER fucking sex story..... Sorry. His name was Ron. From the moment I entered my girlfriend's restaurant, I was in love.... Well, it may sound good.... Romantic even.... But it is NOT really the truth. And since I committed myself to telling the truth... I will rephrase it here: "From the moment I laid eyes on him.... I was in LUST". Do you know this feeling? The feeling you get when your heart takes a leap? And you get this tingling sensation between y

Recently, I have been reflecting on the model of marriage and friendship that passes as “normal” in our popular societies. It is so ingrained into our ways of thinking and behaving, that we do not even stop to reevaluate it, to draw wisdom from other societies or to embrace other concepts. But I have been thinking long and hard about this subject and often recently. It all ignited in my mind, when I started saying: “I love you” to men who were NOT my husband. They felt weird.... unsure of what to do with it.... what do I mean by it?...... When I tried to hug a friend in New Zealand, before I left the country for a few months, he pulled softly out of my arms, saying that Jules is looking, and he may NOT be comfortable with this. Another poet friend who met us in a coffee shop in Auckland, also felt uncomfortable with me hugging him, next to Jules, even though we have been saying “I love you” to one another for months, in front of Jules, his girlfriend and all of our FB friends. Not in e

We are walking the old city of Acre or Akko, It is THE oldest, continually lived in city,......In the WHOLE WORLD. Can you imagine this? Oh, the folly of my youth.... I used to come here to Akko, when I was a very young woman. I always loved it here..... But for the wrong reasons. I used to come here, for massive Rave parties by the beach, (when they just originated), filled with dope, dance and ecstasy. I used to eat with the fishermen, always high and hungry with the 'munchies'. I never read about the history of the place, never tried to hear the local stories, old OR new.... I am amazed now, by how rich in vibrations this place really is. Every stone tells a story. Nobody knows how old this city actually is, but it was already in existence 5000 years ago, and it was mentioned in the Chronicles of one of the Pharaohs. It has changed hands, of course through the years, as men warred, conquered and occupied it again and agin. It was under the rule of King David, Salomon, Alexan

Everyone knows that we make a huge impact in the world, by what we think and what we do. After all, our actions and shared ideas, are what influence society and the world we live in. But very few people, pay attention to the subtler energies that we use daily..... Even Momentarily. These "unexpressed" energetic vibrations, and feelings, are NOT really hidden from one another. WE all feel and sense them, but we pretend NOT to feel them, and we pretend not to show them. In truth, we "Feel" people's suspicion of us, we sense their thoughts, feel their vibes. We feel when they are annoyed at us, even when they do not express it. even when they try to hide it. The whole world vibrates. It is a vibrational force. And since we vibrate energetically too, we all know how to "read" vibrations intuitively. But only few, know how to CONTROL their vibrations intentionally. We attract to us, similar energies, by the levels of vibration we sustain. Saying this in oth

Hi Bob, I am VERY glad you asked. You say you want to know what kind of game, one can play with a ball and a rose? The game is called "Ballarosa". (name invented right now, as I allow my stream of consciousness to take over the writing here). All you need is a rose and a ball. Any ball will do...... And any color rose will do,....... as long as it has a nice fragrance. The fragrance is the key here. Because the sense of smell, tends to carry us, into different realms instantaneously. Have you ever noticed how, when walking down a street, you can be transported immediately, into another time and place? just by smelling a scent that carries a memory for you? It is magical, and it helps me remember, how NOT physical, our existence here on earth, really is. Yes, we do spend much time worrying about our bodies, about providing and protecting them. But we actually spend MOST of our time in our minds. We get carried away with thoughts, with feelings, with memories... With ideas, wit

I am always amazed to hear, that some people, do not even know what their name means. I always believed, that NOTHING in this Universe (Uni - Verse as in ONE SONG), is accidental, and EVERYTHING has a reason..... And that it is ALL good. I already confessed that I love the anthymology of words. I always roll the roots of words in my mind, looking for stories, hidden there. Yesterday, we drove around the Sea of Galilee, and I feel inspired to relate here, my own personal story and the magic I found in MY OWN NAME. You see, I was born in Israel. Many, many people in my country, name their children after biblical charecters, or names taken from biblical stories, flowers, etc. It is similar to the Indian culture, where names are often taken from the various Gods, and their strength and attributes. But in Israel in the Sixties, there was a NEW movement of thinking. Parents decided to name their children NEW and MODERN names. Names like 'Light' and 'joy' and

Phew... What a day... Jules and I were bickering. It is his first time in Israel, And he want to See, See, See.... I am walking through a past time dream,.... And I want to FEEL it..... And to process it.... And to experience it and to heal..... I want to LISTEN.... And this means staying still. We visit a small museum in Tiberius. They broadcast a documentary About the history of the land. It is a retrospective, a poetic reflection... And when it ends, A sweet, sad, and very old song, Sings about brotherhood, About an old vision of sharing the land Between Arabs and Jews.... I am crying, and crying.... While the credits are rolling... And I see that the movie, We just watched, was made by ANOTHER lover of mine... We shared so such passion, So many hours of love and ideas, And so little time to express them all.... We stayed up at nights, Loving and talking and dreaming out loud.... And I am flooded with memories.... Awed by the synchronicity of it all, Have I really slept with SO MANY

I walk on the Sea of Galilee Not actually ON THE WATER, Just around the promenade. And like everything else, On this journey, into my past, It looks NOTHING like it did Twenty years ago. The seafood restaurants, Displaying their catch of the day, Are all gone.... Instead, places stand empty, Dusty, and junky. The hip places that attracted Travelers with open minds, Are now cheap pizza and fast food stands. The magic I remember is no longer there. A friend and a curly haired, lover of mine, Is no longer part of this landscape. The hotel we are staying in, Turned out to belong to his brother. His son, I am told, Owns an ice cream store by the water. He is a young gentleman. As handsome and gentle as his dad. I introduce myself, and tell him The PG 13 rated version, of how I knew his dad. He insists to make us coffee. Begs us to sit and to drink with him. His eyes and energies, Are as wonderful as I remember his dad's. But I do not want to sit down. I am confused, hurting And lost....

You really have to understand the language To appreciate it. But, here I am, Surrounded by Hebrew speaking people, yet, I am the only one laughing. And I am laughing SO hard,.... I am swallowing salt water, From the blue Mediterranean sea I am currently soaking in. The life guards are FUNNY.... But nobody else is laughing... Perhaps they got used to it by now... Maybe I am coming with 'fresh' eyes... Or a mind that is NOT saturated with this culture. On the beach, you expect to hear, The life guard announce the dangers Of a rip tide, The strength of the wind blowing The arrival of stinging jellyfish schools, Or sharks.... What you do not expect, is a stand up comedy routine... And this was exactly what these guys are up to. But I am the ONLY one rolling in laughter around. You see, the culture of life guards in Tel Aviv, goes a long way back. Movies have been made about them, in the sixties, It has been at the center, of many sketch comedies during the years. If you grew up in

Good Morning Stefan. Thank you for allowing me to reflect here with you, about some important creative subjects. I started my letter to you, in my mind a dozen times and in dozens of ways. I find that I want to make myself understood, the best I can..... I am usually not so worried about "being understood". In general, I always thought that if I speak from the heart, and try to be as direct as I can, people will understand. And even if they do not understand, they will take out of it, something that will work for them on some level. But for some silly reason now, I find myself VERY concern with trying to get through to you.... Trying to be precise and direct. Not to dance around subjects metaphorically. And l must tell you..... It does not feel like much fun for me. I hope I can relax and change this attitude, through writing.... Hopefully even DURING writing this email, something will shift in me. It feel unpleasant to write from this state of mind. I am talking here, about

Arab coffee, is traditionally cooked over an open fire and it is sugared and made with earthy spices. This circulating legend, tells the story of hard times that hit the land. People had barely enough to eat. The ruler was approached for a solution. He consulted his advisors who said: "Coffee is expensive,...... spices, are even MORE expensive, People are so polite..... and so hospitable,...... They keep on making coffee for their guests.... You dig the point here dude?" The ruler jumped out of his pillow, "This must stop!" He yelled. "No more coffee drinking and no more serving it to guests! We MUST stop this economic crisis!" All of the land went into a coffee fast. All, except one..... His name was Starboy (a total fictitious name, by the way, made to associate you know what with you know who). Starboy kept on cooking, drinking and serving coffee to all who came to him. He was jailed a few times.... But he kept on making and serving coffee, immediately

I find myself running up the stairs, Skipping two steps at the time, Until I am in front of the large wooden door. The name on the door, is NOT familiar,.... Still, I find myself knocking with a zeal. I am not sure where this bravery, I feel, Is coming from....? When I run this scenario in my mind,..... back in America, I was sure that I will be shy and VERY nervous. I must admit that I am nervous,.... Just not really scared.... And I am aware, that I am willing to take the risk..... What risk? You may ask.... Well, the risk that a jealous wife will open the door, Or a disinterested teenager..... Or worst of all, an ex husband who does not care.....to see me.... But the man who opens the door, Has never heard of Roni, my first husband. And I back down the stairs slowly and sadly. I check the mailboxes, his name is NOT on ANY of them. Even the building looks different. it is clean and freshly painted, It looks almost like a NEW building, Not an old Bauhaus style building.... Which it is

Holding someone on a pedestal is wrong. Not because loving and worshipping another is so wrong,.... but because it makes them into a sculpture.... Frozen in a certain position.... Frozen in time. It makes them unreal.... It expect them to be more than human.... But holding a high opinion of a person.... May only mean that we are NOT prejudging them in our minds.... Not fitting them into pre designed labels and drawers in our own minds..... Made by OUR own conclusions.... Drawn from our own experiences. Am I so wrong? By seeing people in the light? By, Allowing the light in them to be seen... To shine....Freely and openly? Some people may say it is like seeing "The Potential" in others. I hate this word. It implies that I see what is NOT there... Or not there YET.... That it MAY exist in the other.... Just not YET... Or not in them ALWAYS.... The people close to me, my family, always said I am a fool. Berated me... Said I tend to do this.... See only the light in people. While

The other day, I spent a lazy afternoon at the beach. I mostly slept, But I also observed people... And remembered things from my past.... I remembered another sex story... That started on that SAME beach... last time I tried to write a sex story, my mind kept interrupting me... Demanding I be accurate. It insisted that a ONE night stand, Is ONLY limited to a single, ONE night. So now, I am apprehensive.... Tentatively, looking for the right words.... I do not want to get into a fight again.... It was NOT pretty.... So I wonder.... What do you call a one NIGHT stand, That happened in the AFTERNOON? Well, it happened to me.... Many years ago,... And right before THAT event.... The one that took me to my knees... "THE EVENT"... That I did not yet, gather enough strength... Or found the words.... To share it with the world... I will just say now,... That it involved me,.... Buck-naked A small inflatable raft.... The Jordan River... A few tablets of LSD... A few, perfectly rolled

I hear an inner voice saying: "Explain to them..... Please......" This voice has been nudging me in the past few days, since I posted my thoughts about "How to be rich." It has been after me, telling me that I spoke in generalizations.... "Nobody understands generalizations.... You said that people "Push away the river of abundance from their lives.. You said that, right? You have to give an EXAMPLE, so they can understand how it is done. A PRACTICAL example..... to demonstrate what you mean by that...." The voice is kind to me..... It has been nudging me gently, not aggressively, and it has been offering suggestions patiently....... (although it did keep me up at night, for two hours, running in my memory SO many examples that I can bring up,...... to illustrate how it is commonly done.) Finally, sitting at the Denver airport, gate 49, on United Airlines, I take out my iPad and type in the ideas in my head. I have a few examples to bring up. The firs

Today was a lazy beach day. I am still jet legged... I have not been to the beach in a LONG time. or at least, this is how it feels to me. So, I spent most of my day, resting, at the beach. Earlier, we visited a busy market, called "Shook", or in arabic, "Souk". Markets are the living pulse of a culture. Mountains of spices, fresh produce, pickles, nuts, cheap clothing vendors singing their wares, joking, fighting verbally with one another, Sharpening their tongues. I am amazed that I understand ANYTHING... The slang had evolved SO MUCH... Old people pushing carts filled with their daily bread, cheese, veggies.... A single chicken leg... An elder living alone... Holding hopes for another day. We meandered into a neighboring area, called "The Yemenai Vineyard" to look for Yemenai food. I want Jules to try Yemenai food. The area has low rise buildings, some are crumbling. Flowering vines climbing over walls and into small balconies, ornate courtyards... Heav