PERFECT PICTURE 

The party on the roof terrace came to a natural end when my youngest daughter said that she was tired and wanted to go to bed instead of dancing to hilarious 00-europop presented by a rather absent appearing greek dj. We made our way through total darkness, down the stairs. The waves were breaking like they had been forever and back in the room she fell asleep fast and i finally checked TikTok, started to stare at this endless stream of terror unfolding, the Iron Dome deflecting rockets over Tel Aviv, a brutal yet beautiful view despite its murderous appeal, a surreal, deeply unsettling scenario and while still trying to make sense something exploded outside just next to the apartment and for a split second the life on the screen and the life in the real merged, tilted and i rushed out on the balcony just to see the fireworks being inflamed just meters away, spraying a greenish white light, bang, bang, bang and oh it took time to calm down.

At the airport now. D2. Delta to New York. Reading Rob Horning on "real images" and i think i have heard this one before but "you take photos not to capture reality but to refine exactly what it is that can’t be captured — what actually is “live” and not available to mediation and mechanical reproduction. In other words, photos create an “aura” of reality precisely for something that is understood to exceed the photo, something the image points to but can’t contain." So obvious, yet brutal. 

In case you missed it.The Internet Isn’t Fun Anymore. Reading Kyle Chayka about the decay of Twitter and oh the grief. Voices having fallen silent. Not yet sure we'll meet again somewhere else. It was nice while it lasted.