Issue 125

In Judaism, we are taught to not fully complete an object, to leave a sliver incomplete until Moshiach (the Messiah) comes to help us rebuild the Temple. As I relate this to my paintings, I am not sure they are truly finished.

It’s the first death for each of them,
but the crash of sorrow into happiness

Hardly anything is not fragile now; the world may be in the most fragile state of our lifetime.

There is much trouble in the world
but no diminution of hope

I don’t know much about Jerusalem
besides my walks in it.

“This is Fraternity
Island and contains
too few palms.
We shall plant
the sands and shade
our cabanas,”

I don’t know if it’s getting older, but as I and people around me experience more loss in our personal lives, I’ve been coming to a sense of the reality that life is shaped around loss—not despite it but because of it.

I keep my mouth shut.
If it weighs on me, good—
I’ll be mindful.

At sunrise the end will freeze me like a lake trout
preserved in vinegar,

You must take the first step without seeing the whole staircase, the whole street. But somehow you make it across.