Update #3: An Illumination Of Blessings-Havdalah

Dear Backers & Backers-To-Be:

We’re just about down to the wire: 57% funded and 4 days until midnight of July 6th when funding closes for An Illumination Of Blessings! So if you haven’t decided to become part of this unique effort, please take a few moments to consider doing so and by all means spread the work to anyone you know who would also like to contribute.

I promise that you will not be disappointed when you receive your postcards, prints and copy or copies of this beautiful art book. Like every work of art I make, it does not leave my studio unless I am entirely satisfied that I have done my best to bring it to life.

This week I’ve completed a new blessing for the book; it is called Ceremony Of The Senses and presents the Havdalah ceremony, performed at the conclusion of the Sabbath. The book will include a detailed commentary about the imagery I’ve chosen. As always, your comments and questions are welcome and I look forward to being able to share An Illumination Of Blessings as a personal legacy to you for generations to come.

Here is the link for you to enter your pledge and to forward to all you think would want to participate.

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1330347473/an-illumination-of-blessings

Thanks in advance!

Ilene

A Cultural Anomaly: Hasids@Harrods?

Waking up this morning, a thought floated past: how would one define consciousness? Is it a continuous series of ‘snapshots’, so to speak, strung together in our minds to form an infinitesimal portion of the big picture? And might that portions’ relationship to the greater reality only be understood in retrospect? Maybe. Maybe not. Perhaps, to prevent short-circuiting, we’re not meant to be conscious of consciousness, but before I get lost on this existential tangent, I want to share a drawing that was completed last night; a ‘snapshot’ that may have prompted those thoughts…

One rainy afternoon in 2002 at Harrods, I sketched a quick impression in my journal of these two men in black. Their incongruous presence in London’s poshest department store was a stark contrast to the colorful array of culinary delights for which Harrods great food hall is world renowned. Upon further reflection, this sighting revealed another level of strangeness. It seemed that by some trompe l’oeil, they had been transported through time from a cobblestone street in 17th century Poland to our era of consumer opulence and gastronomic bounty. Taking in their stuffed shopping totes, I wondered if they were still committed to their ascetic culture as they searched for a way out? And where were their wives? Questions, questions; but what fun would life be without mysteries like this?