…tips, reflections, helplines.
This is pretty fucking shit. But we can all help each other to try and make it a bit less shit. Less judgement. More kindness.
…tips, reflections, helplines. Read More »
Culture
From Kraków to Malagá via Stepney Way
Sometimes, it’s easier to give up. Storm Ciara had blown in. It wasn’t keen for me to fly out. I wanted one thing above all else. I was desperate to return to Spain. Any route would work well enough.
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At the ballet? No, one of the best musicals.
There’s something about the immense freedom of watching a good musical that takes me to imaginary worlds. I make no exaggeration when I say a musical directed well fills me with joy.
At the ballet? No, one of the best musicals. Read More »
A personal reflection on Jewish Morocco
The trip was a poignant poem to Morocco’s Jewish past. Sadly, there might not be so many people in future to recite it; who can remember the history first-hand. For now, there are Berbers, like Omar. He told me to go home and spread the news of this place and how for generations, Jews called it their land.
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75 years. We remember.
I never want to forget. For memorising is a fluid act. International acts of memorising the dead can wither on the vine. Memories are so malleable. We owe it six million not to let ours’ be nearly so fragile.
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My 2010s? I like getting older.
It was December 31st 2009. My friend tolerated watching Jules Holland on the TV (I had just experienced a difficult break-up). I felt quite the grinch.
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Cultural forays and Yves St Laurent
I revelled in the Smoking tuxedos that Yves Saint Laurent designed, but wondered what, if anything, the great master thought of the French-Algerian war that raged as he made it to the big stage.
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Moroccan mellahs and armadillos
The significance of Hannukah was lost on me as a boy, even years later, when I watched Ross Geller dress up as an armadillo to impress upon his and Rachel’s son how important the festival is!
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