life dream #1 and a few other things

We (some friends) move to Europe for a year. Where? I don't know, maybe someplace in Spain, by the water. The sun sets. The sun rises. Mostly, though, the sun sets because we're asleep when the sun rises. In the morning, as the sun is rising and we sleep, the mesh curtain over the bedroom window (or door to a balcony!) billows because there is a breeze from the water and of course the window is always open because of the fresh sea air. Everything is labeled in Spanish. In the evening, after bongo drums and campfires, we walk back home along the shore, sandels in hand and hair in messy ponytails or unevenly flattened. Hair that we'll find is full of sand and fire ashes and clumsy singing when we finally take a shower the next morning. When we first move there, we're some kind of tripod; we are fluent in the same language and we giggle about things in ways that tripods do. That second week, our rooms still bare and luggage spitting out clothes, we go skinny-dipping at night. We scream about our rum-tinged liberation. But after a couple months (of writing in coffeeshops and painting with easels set up by the water and picking wildflowers for hair accessories), we start to become more independent of one another. We're not drifting apart, we just keep some things to ourselves. Everything changes just a little bit and then nothing is really the same. Not in a bad way, but in a quiet way. Because the writing is so organic and the art is sensual and the wildflowers turn into crowns. We're best friends but we're bodies, too. Sometimes we still walk back home along the shore together, but now we're more boisterous. 'We belong here, this is ours,' we think. So we throw a half-empty bottle into the sea to prove it. We stumble over our feet and lean on each other for balance. The sun rises and sets and rises and the curtain billows and the tub fills up with sand every shower. We never make our beds.


I recommend watching this video starring Emile Hirsch. It's perfectly pretty ('cause he's perfectly pretty?).

Currently,
1. I'd like to learn how to skateboard.
2. I want to figure out how to dress like this or like this. Preferably both. And also, peruse HEL LOOKS because it is amazing and inspiring when you get dressed every morning by peeling something off the carpet and checking to make sure it's not smelly.
3. I'm drinking at least one cup/travel mug of tea a day.  With honey.

the Israeli sun soaked my skin

Okay, my long, put-off, slightly avoided Israel post. It's not really what you think it'll be. I wanted to show you guys something really cool that caught my attention in Israel: the graffiti/street art. Maybe it's nothing special and you can easily find the same sort of stuff in Toronto, but the fact that some of it is in Hebrew makes it a sort of mystery. Plus, it's foreign. I think it's pretty awesome. Some of this will be my own translation (with help) so perhaps not 100% accurate.

Graffiti/Writing

"Today i understand why i cried when i was born."

fight the power

KNOW HOPE
(BROKEN HEARTS RECOLLECT
THEMSELVES WHILE DISTRACTED)

daughter of Israel, please dress modestly

Street Art

at the playground

a mural for Victory ice cream

A whale in the middle of the street in Tel Aviv!

What sparked this entire post is Israel's electrical box art. All electrical boxes are painted by artists in whatever way they'd like. Some of them are weird, some incredibly cool, and some mediocre. Each street is like a little art gallery. The following are all from Ashkelon.

Some Disney-themed ones near the playground:

My favourite favourite favourite: a stereo! Beautiful!

A differently-coloured lion sculpture just on the street!

I don't know if this really counts as street art, but even the fire hydrants in Israel look like pieces of art. Little aliens.

Overheard at the Wailing Wall

Daughter: Daddy, why do the boys have so much more room on their side than the girls?

Dad: I don't know.

Daughter: My teacher says it's just a trick, that they actually have the same amount of room.

Dad: No, it's not a trick.

Daughter: Well, it's not fair, daddy. They should have the same amount of room.

Dad: No, it's not fair. It's not fair at all.

June 4th, 2008

I would love a lion, thanks

The two gentlemen pictured above purchased the lion cub sandwiched in between them at a department store in the late 60s. His name was Christian and he lived with them in an apartment attached to a furniture store in London, England. Look at him, sitting on a couch! (Also, look at them: this photo looks like it should be an Oasis album cover, or something.) Christian was incredibly affectionate and incredibly adorable. Should i repeat that he is a lion?

Man, look at Christian being all beautiful! Christian loved to play football, watch television, and rummage through drawers, just like a human being! After a year he grew too big to be kept as a pet and John Rendall and Ace Berg (the two friends who bought Christian) tried to figure out what to do. Through a stroke of luck, they managed to get in touch with George Adamson, who spent his time rehabilitating lions raised in captivity back into the wild, among other lion-related things.

Christian was sent to Kenya with George Adamson to join a pride of lions. Despite an initial struggle (Christian knew nothing about lion etiquette), he adjusted beautifully and had lion cubs of his own and disappeared for a long time. A year later, when John and Ace contacted George Adamson to get an update on how Christian was doing and whether they could visit, Adamson warned John and Ace that visiting would be completely futile; Christian had adjusted to a new way of life and wouldn't remember them at all. John and Ace flew to Kenya anyway.

Here's a video of them in Kenya, a year after releasing Christian into the wild. Watch Christian's jaw drop when he recognizes them:

There is a movie (Christian the Lion at World's End) and a book based on Christian's story. I think it was released on DVD in 2006.

Anyway, i just wanted to post about this because the reunion video is incredible and Christian was a such a beautiful cub and the entire story is really nice to think about. I hope your hearts were sufficiently warmed.

Credit to Deb for introducing me to the video (& story) and this newspaper article for the info & photos. I definitely recommend the article; it's freakin' called "Christian, the lion who lived in my London living room" (!!). Are you sold?