Tel Aviv The Hill in Spring

Tel Aviv

TEL Aviv with TALI and GEULA

THE PORT OF TA

Romance in view of the openness

TALI

Lovely Larger than Life exceptionaL person who keeps minds scintiLLating, 

more than one book in a woman............................

maybe I can write it?

She is inspired by Shmuel Agnon a writer of Israel

 Friends teaching, sharing and ...FISHING......

familiar sight.....the world over

 Along the road to the sea MURALs compete with Mexico
 with or without Diego and Banksy..and more.....

His familiar Contorted face half game half pain

TALI has Greek ancestry.............An art piece at home

                             by EILAT ADAR Check her work at SAATCHI

THE BAUHAUS BUILDINGS OF TA

JERUSALEM, November 2016

The land of Holy

Geula Hamilevski

Poetic Heart of TEL AVIV

kindest writer

'TO STOP FOR A MOMENT' (2010)

'LOOK BEFORE YOU LEAP' (2012)

offered hospitality

vegetable juice

herb paddies 

with scents from the long gone past



LITERARY TA
Her wise words 

interpreted vibrant TA

 OLD CITY OF JAFFA, 
a more Muslim populated area,

 Muslims go freely all over TA….

modern scriptures 
baring words
in white on blue, on stone


A view from a port
Jaffa
as the stones and spume smile 
to the changes over the years




Every sun set 
another bag of thoughts
ingredients for the next day's peacemeal 
(as in piecemeal ....)

 the beauty softly  lighten the faces 

I experienced the magic 
the philosophy of patience 


           growth...... in this land........ of overcoming….
of bigger than life days
of stronger than resilience nights
                              the indescribable electricity of life

‘Of Three Or Four In A Room’

By Yehuda Amichai

(Translated from the Hebrew by Chana Bloch and Stephen Mitchell)

Of three or four in a room

there is always one who stands beside the window.

He must see the evil among thorns

and the fires on the hill.

And how people who went out of their houses whole

are given back in the evening like small change.

Of three of four or four in a room

there is always one who stands beside the window,

his dark hair above his thoughts.

Behind him, words.

And in front of him, voices wandering without a knapsack,

hearts without provisions, prophecies without water,

large stones that have been returned

and stay sealed, like letters that have no

address and no one to receive them

light, sand, sea, frangrances and flavours, some more bitter or others sweet…..

a simple day, 
 attempting senses rather than meaning, 

understanding and accepting  who I am 

and how days have forged who I have come to be ……..

Karine