I’m at my sister’s house, we sit on the couch with the TV on and I’m reading to her about this girl in New York who’s blog became a raving success and now she signed some book and movie deal, and she sounds just like me, though I haven’t read her blog, writing about her sorrows and joy and sex life and I’m telling my sister about this conflict I’m facing more and more as my blog identity and my off line persona get to interact more and I get to actually have people in my life read my blog - which is - to write or not to write? To censor myself and avoid hurting or exposing people I know and who would feel hurt or exposed as a result of what I write or should I leave things discrete, and I’m still debating it, though at some points, I’m saying “what the hell, I’m going to write everything” and waking up in the morning, after spending in on her couch I can’t wait to write it all, but then I find out that BlogSpirit’s servers are down, and it make me feel a lot more nomad and homeless then just spending the night out of my apartment usually makes me feel.
After she wake up we go to the cinema in Azriely center and we watch the new Tim Barton’s “Charlie and the Chocolate factory” which is wonderful and I remember all the times I’ve read this book as a child and though the Movie script change quite bit in the story, the delightfulness of the candy and the darkness hazy of it all, makes us both feel like kids. Going out of the film and browsing through Tower Records, I get a very unfamiliar sensation I actually miss home, and I realize that for the first time perhaps, I managed to call my tiny apartment “home” and feel like I belong there to a degree. And it make me happy but when I get there quite a few hours later, the place seem so unfamiliar and threatening. I forgot a pot of rice on the stove and standing for almost 24 hours in the Tel Aviv weather made it stink and crawl with tiny flies. And I throw it away and wash the dishes, but the smell seem to stick in the air. And though I wanted to be alone I can’t seem to know what to do with this evening, so I surf the net for a bit, then listening to another chapter of the audio book version of “American gods” I work on the oil painting that’s got 3 portraits of my sister on one side and a portrait of me in bondage on the other side.