Well, so here I am again. Back on SG, back in the UK, back in Birmingham.
I thoroughly enjoyed Israel. It was a massive learning experience. I met a lot of very interesting people and saw some amazing places. I talk about it all in length at my blog - myduckfeet - where there's plenty of pics and philosophical musings if anyone's interested in that. The highlight was a month spent with the African Hebrew community, a group of black Americans who settled in Israel claiming descent from the tribe of Judah. They've fashioned a fascinating and inspiring community based on the pre-rabbinic Torah. They're vegan, very welcoming and really very interesting to talk to, if quite austere. I spent some time researching their beliefs and helping out in the school with the English lessons.
My favourite city was Haifa. This is considered the capital of the north and reminds me somewhat of Manchester. Not the buzzing metropolis of Tel Aviv, more sedate and measured. Fairly close to this is the city of Tzfat, home of medieval Kabbalah and very beautiful.
I only managed to see one band - Rotting Christ, who were in Tel Aviv for their 20th anniversary tour. Not really the kind of music I'm mad about but it was good to see a bit of the underground while I was there. Drinking however is ridiculously expensive in Israel - nearly 4 for a pint of lager in most places, and close to a tenner for a decent whiskey.
And now I'm in a period of waiting; waiting for my PhD application to be assessed, waiting to find work, waiting to know what the rest of my life has planned. It's an odd place to be after two years of clear future. Frustratingly, I can't even seriously start looking for work until I know whether I'm going to be moving to Nottingham in a few months.
I've been listening to Schnittke recently. This Russian composer has made some hauntingly beautiful work, some of the best of which is being released on Tocatta (you get a few minutes of samples to check out at the site).
Reading-wise, I've been captivated by Milorad Pavic's Dictionary of the Khazars, a hypertext novel from the late 80s formed as a tripartite fictionalisation of the Khazar Kingdom's conversation in the 10th century. Thoroughly fascinating and very well written, the dictionary is split into three sources, Christian, Muslim and Jewish, who each tell a different version of events. The structure works to destroy any kind of linear reading, forcing the reader to flick back and forwards between entries and make up their own mind as to the 'facts', if indeed a single truth behind the three perspectives can be found. It reminds me of Mark Danielewski's House of Leaves in its willingnes to disrupt the reader's safety of assumption. This notion of conflicting narratives has been particularly present during my time in Israel - in terms of the Israel-Palestine conflict and the way people talk past each other with little willingness to listen or step outside the safety of their own story and their own beliefs about what are the crucial elements, but also because of the African Hebrews' claims to be the rightful inheritors of the Israelite heritage, and their reclaiming of history in order to re-envision their own role in the world.
I thoroughly enjoyed Israel. It was a massive learning experience. I met a lot of very interesting people and saw some amazing places. I talk about it all in length at my blog - myduckfeet - where there's plenty of pics and philosophical musings if anyone's interested in that. The highlight was a month spent with the African Hebrew community, a group of black Americans who settled in Israel claiming descent from the tribe of Judah. They've fashioned a fascinating and inspiring community based on the pre-rabbinic Torah. They're vegan, very welcoming and really very interesting to talk to, if quite austere. I spent some time researching their beliefs and helping out in the school with the English lessons.
My favourite city was Haifa. This is considered the capital of the north and reminds me somewhat of Manchester. Not the buzzing metropolis of Tel Aviv, more sedate and measured. Fairly close to this is the city of Tzfat, home of medieval Kabbalah and very beautiful.
I only managed to see one band - Rotting Christ, who were in Tel Aviv for their 20th anniversary tour. Not really the kind of music I'm mad about but it was good to see a bit of the underground while I was there. Drinking however is ridiculously expensive in Israel - nearly 4 for a pint of lager in most places, and close to a tenner for a decent whiskey.
And now I'm in a period of waiting; waiting for my PhD application to be assessed, waiting to find work, waiting to know what the rest of my life has planned. It's an odd place to be after two years of clear future. Frustratingly, I can't even seriously start looking for work until I know whether I'm going to be moving to Nottingham in a few months.
I've been listening to Schnittke recently. This Russian composer has made some hauntingly beautiful work, some of the best of which is being released on Tocatta (you get a few minutes of samples to check out at the site).
Reading-wise, I've been captivated by Milorad Pavic's Dictionary of the Khazars, a hypertext novel from the late 80s formed as a tripartite fictionalisation of the Khazar Kingdom's conversation in the 10th century. Thoroughly fascinating and very well written, the dictionary is split into three sources, Christian, Muslim and Jewish, who each tell a different version of events. The structure works to destroy any kind of linear reading, forcing the reader to flick back and forwards between entries and make up their own mind as to the 'facts', if indeed a single truth behind the three perspectives can be found. It reminds me of Mark Danielewski's House of Leaves in its willingnes to disrupt the reader's safety of assumption. This notion of conflicting narratives has been particularly present during my time in Israel - in terms of the Israel-Palestine conflict and the way people talk past each other with little willingness to listen or step outside the safety of their own story and their own beliefs about what are the crucial elements, but also because of the African Hebrews' claims to be the rightful inheritors of the Israelite heritage, and their reclaiming of history in order to re-envision their own role in the world.
scarringthewound:
As you return to sg, I hereby depart it! Well not til the weekend. My account better fucking expire this time or else...*raises fist* Oooh you went to a metal giggy. Actually I own 2 albums by a metal band heralding from none other than Israel, they're called Orphaned Land. If you don't know them maybe you should check 'em out? They've dropped the death metal growling and are very much a progressive band now, with male and female vocalists and incorporating lost of traditional middle eastern instruments into their songs for a very ethnic feel. Plus they have an emphasis on united the three abrahamic faiths. Oh and it's interesting you mention House of Leaves as I'm planning to read that as part of my research. Kibbutz sounds like a special place. I always hate when people ask the generic trite like "How are you?" when they already know the answer they're expecting off you. To be able to utter something only if necessary makes for a very self-reflective way of life. Less words, more thought. And eating in silence is very meditative. To be aware of the food you are tasting. To live more in the present. I think it's cool. And I agree with you about how wonderful it is to break away from ocularcentricity (that's like my new favourite word). Hearing and I would stress touching too. They both allow for a more dynamic experience of things I think. I'm already thinking about life after art school, no finalizing but i've got a few ideas up my sleeve for what to do afterwards. Haha I don't know what i'm writing my thesis on yet, let me finish mycurent essay and then write up my thesis proposal and i'll let ya know. And thanks for your own one. Which i'll read once i've written my essay. What my tattoo is all about is in my third last blog. I think you can work out why I chose to get a blood letting device inked onto my wrist of all places. It's my own design but the tattooist added the woodgrains as I just had it as a line drawing. Of course real scarificators are made of brass but I think wood and metal look sexy together. Plus with the real ones, that central lever would be much more innocent looking, and a multitude of blades would issue forth from the base of the box once the lever is cocked 
Please reply to this on my email as I'm not reactivating this until mid-May.
Please reply to this on my email as I'm not reactivating this until mid-May.
scarringthewound:
I just tried sending you the movie and it failed. It's also too big for yousendit, damn it. I'll have to crop it back at uni and try sending again next month.