Saturday night 22:00. My radio keeps adding names of teenagers who died in last night's suicide-terror-attack. We lost count of these 'events'.
"When was the last bomb? yesterday? no, this morning. oh yes, but only three wounded..." is a normal piece of conversation these days. Last week I thought it was the climax, after 3 bomb-cars in one day in Jerusalem, and the collapsing of the floor at the wedding, I felt fortunate to be able to work at home.
When I woke up in the morning, expecting a lazy holiday, there were 4 helicopters and 5 small airplanes above my house, (literally), trying hard to put out the huge fire just in front of our small village, police evacuating my neighbors from their homes.
It seems as all the relief after nothing happened in the new year of the millennium, (2000 AND 2001), is being contradicted now with a super-natural wave of disaster.
As if god is spilling all his anger, hatred and rage on this miserable place.

In the virtual work I prepared last week for the exhibition in Cittadellarte (www.cittadellarte.it) I made an off line Internet site, and the home page's title was "what can I do?". It referred to what can I do about the situation as an artist and a peace seeking activist in Israel. During the last few days this question sounds a little different; "can I do something?". Every conversation with friends very quickly comes to a point where other countries' names are being thrown to the air as an alternative to living here.
You can smell war very near, maybe even tomorrow. Masses of Israelis are begging the PM to start the war and what's left from the left wing is silent and confused.

Meanwhile I'm at home, planning to build two closets this week, plant herbs in the garden, entertain the dog. Just stay in the village, wait for an invitation from an international project or a foreign curator to do some project over seas.
Deus ex machina.