I knew it, but I didn’t want to know it.

“Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year, is the perfect time for us, Jewish or not, to take stock of the past year…”

When I can hold these complex paradoxes, it all feels impossibly simple

Close your eyes and imagine that.

This part feels a bit brutal.

In six months I have forgotten grief as if it were a country I returned home from.

Today, the ego rules our culture. The collective consciousness has become enslaved to the ego’s tyrannical will.

Our intrinsic needs have been pushed aside in our modern lives.

I try to observe Shabbat every week. I like the word ‘observe' because it can be passive or active.

Art is inner space converging with empty space as something concrete.

To come back to balance, to focusing on what is good, is a choice that is at times difficult, but ultimately inevitable as well.

Shabbat : How is this night different from all other nights? The Pesach Haggadah on Passover asks this question several times.

Haven’t we all? No? Maybe in a dark moment.

When I live in the moment and not in my mind, small joys reveal themselves to me in nuances and details

Make up doesn’t matter. Presence and connection does.

Grief is weird.

It’s been almost two weeks since my friend’s passing and mourning has cast my time in a stark perspective.

There is no elegant exit, this is only the beginning.

There is no tidy ending.

Once a week while a candle is lit practice sitting still.