Disjointed

When I was young, just out of college, I assumed that one day I would have a job where you essentially did one thing all day long, or at least there would be a way to describe my day under one general employment umbrella. But even in the days when I had full-time jobs, it was more like I had three or six part-time jobs all stapled together. My life continues in that vein.

I guess the previous paragraph is an answer to a question that you may not be asking. It is a question that I need to answer when I describe this blog. This blog is about the process of making Jewish ritual objects. But that process takes place within the context of my life which includes being part of a community and a family and living in a city and all of that other STUFF is also part of my process of making Jewish ritual objects in fabric.

The mending I did of my son's pants a few weeks ago

informs how I restore this old tallit.

 The netting supports the old silk while allowing you to see the old silk.

I stitch the old tallit using a mix of machine and hand mending stitches using silk threads. As I work I see more and more areas of the silk have begun to break, more and more areas need to be mended.


I worry that the owner of this tallit will miss the feel of the old silk. The silk stitching I add restores some of the deep black that is diffused by the netting. This tallit will be much stronger than it was. This tallit tells a story of loss and mourning and holding on to the memory of those who are no longer alive.

Working on this atara with the white on white embroidery reminded me that my glasses needed to be replaced with a stronger prescription.

  Today I picked up my new glasses.

     Everything looks extra bright and crisp.

I suppose that the fabulous sunset I saw last night over the Hudson would have looked even more wonderful with my new glasses.

Since so much of my life is about figuring out solutions to problems I want to share this ingenious solution to a problem figured out by our Senegalese taxi driver today.

The plexiglass protective barrier in taxis protects the taxi driver from unruly dangerous passengers. During the summer those plastic barriers make it hard to cool the back seat of the taxi.

 The dryer duct wasn't pretty. Neither was the black duct tape.

But this brilliant solution kept us cool in the back seat.

All of this detritus of my life makes it's way into my work.