Dear Israel, 

we met in low light, shimmering colorful down on our heads full of childish naivety. It was in a place, just built for us to enjoy, dream and play within. And when the morning came we opened a new chapter upon the nights dreams. 

We gathered around the light, warming our hearts from each others nearness. It is simple and fragile this place called home but for you the ‚where‘ doesn’t seem to matter too much anyways. Your families come from so many places and the process of making home is still in a progress. While on the other side of that wall we see from here, home is in great danger so the land you live on would be yours one day. It would be easy for me to ask why you wouldn’t fight for a better world outside your door? But we are all doing it, accepting someone elses suffering so we can feel like living a safe and peaceful life. Just the space between those others and our doorstep varies. 

I feel comfortable when I’m with you. And even though the croaking sounds we form describe different things, I get you. It is intuition that tells you what to do and when it seems you came to a dead end, you just ask „What to do?“ with an accepting smile because you can only do so much. Your dolce vita, mixed with feeling of being a tribe and a pushing „Yalla“! 

Down south where most of the land and least of the people are, brave ideas find their space to be lived. In little parallel worlds that seem so far away from all the outside world, interrupted only by occasional gunshots and explosions in the distance. 

You probably don’t even notice these anymore while I’m still wondering what it means to carry a heavy machine gun in the bus when you’re 18 year old. I understood what it means to walk around my homelands with less fences and borders but instead the fear of your neighbors that I never felt in the holy land.

Everything becomes normal if you’re in it long enough but I couldn’t stay to feel that happen.

Yours, truly,Ken

 

2015 - 2017