There is an emptiness in my body. I feel as if I’ve forgotten how to exhale. My hands begin to shake. I can’t tell if I can hear my heart beating, or if I can’t even hear at all. This is how I feel when I see that Israel has made breaking news. It’s a reaction formed out of a repeated history of violence. My dad has lived in Israel since 2004. From the age of 10, I’ve grown up with my dad living on the other side of the world. Over time, we’ve created a sense of normalcy. But this repeated violence is the one thing I refuse to get used to. I took this photo while my dad and I were walking in his neighborhood this July. He lives 10 minutes away from where the shooting occurred. I stopped to take this photo and I remember my dad asking me what was so special about it. I told him that I thought it represented everyone as humans. That the idea of “monochrome,” was to say that we are all different shades of the same entity. That we should seek to find connection rather than difference. This series can be found all over Tel Aviv. It lives on the walls of buildings, on the streets of where the massacre from the other night occurred. I have gone out to bars on Dizengoff, where I spent late nights and early mornings having the time of my life. I have walked past the bar where the shooting happened. And even if I hadn’t, it wouldn’t make all of the constant violence any less real. It is 2016. It is time we learn to love. My family is Tel Aviv. My dad is Tel Aviv. I am Tel Aviv. My heart is with Tel Aviv.❤️
#iamtelaviv (at רחוב דיזנגוף, תל-אביב)
