8/10
Woodshed has had to cancel the previews for Wednesday and Thursday. Well, postpone. No one is responding at the Conservancy office. They had the contract with Baschnagel. Should have been done. RL can’t drop by until tomorrow afternoon. Plumbing issue remains. Danielle's videos of cascading water haunt.
Two representatives of a young, unaffiliated but orthodox oriented synagogue come in to look at the space. They’re part of that 1200% growth in Jewish affiliation over this last census time in this neighborhood. They’ve been referred by Eleanor. Esther is in a study group of Israelis and Americans that Eleanor is a part of. We talk about the demonstrations going on in Israel. 250,000 people in the streets, in tents, Egypt is here, the signs say. Ha’aretz calls it a revolution. My son Micah in Berlin tells me all his Israeli friends there are heading home to participate. Major stories, daily coverage in Al Jazeera. Next to nothing in the New York Times. If it’s not about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, it doesn’t count. Even as a younger generation demands social justice, the sense of social solidarity (albeit Jewish) that once defined the state, even if in romance and myth.
They love the space. The possbiilitites. And they seem like folks we could work well with. There’s one problem: the Orthodox sensibility at their core means they can’t worship in any space used for Christian worship. That is a problem. Can’t imagine what creative soluton could possibly work that out. But they want to try. All we can do is wait and see. Sometimes solutions appear out of nowhere. We’ll see.
Late in the day, the Woodshed folks are gathering for their, now, dress rehearsal. Outside on the steps, Edward has settled in. And someone else, in the south doorway, back to me. Already asleep. I ask Edward if he know who he is. He doesn’t. He's in a somewhat better mood. Eyes still bloodshot. It’s a little bit early to turn over the steps. I tell Edward to take care. And then head home.
Woodshed has had to cancel the previews for Wednesday and Thursday. Well, postpone. No one is responding at the Conservancy office. They had the contract with Baschnagel. Should have been done. RL can’t drop by until tomorrow afternoon. Plumbing issue remains. Danielle's videos of cascading water haunt.
Two representatives of a young, unaffiliated but orthodox oriented synagogue come in to look at the space. They’re part of that 1200% growth in Jewish affiliation over this last census time in this neighborhood. They’ve been referred by Eleanor. Esther is in a study group of Israelis and Americans that Eleanor is a part of. We talk about the demonstrations going on in Israel. 250,000 people in the streets, in tents, Egypt is here, the signs say. Ha’aretz calls it a revolution. My son Micah in Berlin tells me all his Israeli friends there are heading home to participate. Major stories, daily coverage in Al Jazeera. Next to nothing in the New York Times. If it’s not about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, it doesn’t count. Even as a younger generation demands social justice, the sense of social solidarity (albeit Jewish) that once defined the state, even if in romance and myth.
They love the space. The possbiilitites. And they seem like folks we could work well with. There’s one problem: the Orthodox sensibility at their core means they can’t worship in any space used for Christian worship. That is a problem. Can’t imagine what creative soluton could possibly work that out. But they want to try. All we can do is wait and see. Sometimes solutions appear out of nowhere. We’ll see.
Late in the day, the Woodshed folks are gathering for their, now, dress rehearsal. Outside on the steps, Edward has settled in. And someone else, in the south doorway, back to me. Already asleep. I ask Edward if he know who he is. He doesn’t. He's in a somewhat better mood. Eyes still bloodshot. It’s a little bit early to turn over the steps. I tell Edward to take care. And then head home.
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