I’ll end this one with a short series of photos I developed recently. My last roll of Ilford Black and White. There are other recently filmed events which I’ve yet to develop the pictures for, and many other meaningful moments I now wish I had photos from. I’ll try and be better about this next time. next week.

THESE ARE:

In Suseya, South Hebron Hills. In the shig tent wih Nasser.

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In Mufagara, also in the South Hebron Hills – the village mosque. It has a demolition order.

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Something completely different – the Morrissey concert in Tel Aviv, which was terrific.

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And I’ll leave you with this last one – this is the view from my new home in Hebron, looking out on the Cave of Machpelah / Ibrahimi Mosque. Beautiful, isn’t it?

This one came out alright – Ashraf, sitting next to me at the Real Madrid game. A week in Spain last winter, we mostly ate and walked around. I had many more pictures, but only the soccer match is left.
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Here’s what we could see from our seats. Also shown – flash going off in a room, maybe in a museum.
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That’s my father, I think they’re in Amsterdam. But it’s also a photo from Hebron, I would have to guess. It’s hard to tell, right?

Here it’s just me, driving through the Negev with Tal Adler.
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And now we’ve come to the end of the roll, shot yesterday, but also at least 3 years ago. My mom posing for pictures on a trip to Europe, Woody Harrelson posing with his daughter at the birthplace of Jesus, on our tour of Hebron, Bethlehem, and the Wailing Wall.

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I kind of like the result. But it’s embarrassing still.

My brother Uri and myself. I can’t tell if that’s my genuine expression or if I’m posing for the camera. Both explanations are possible – and in any case I’m like that in almost every photo taken from that age.
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With our mother, somewhere local.
“שמיים שרוטים של גלוייה”

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My brother and I got hold of the family camera one afternoon. After photographing our G.I. Joe collections, we got around to our bellies. That’s me. I don’t think I’ve ever been like that again.

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I don’t know what this picture is about, but that’s me on the screen (or in the reflection).
There’s something magically self-referential here.