Just returned from Mitzpe-Ramon, where I participated in "The Celebration" - a body-arts festival - in which I enjoyed quite a success, mostly for the main similarity between me and the engrgizer bunny - we both never shut up.
I enjoyed it immensly - except, maybe, for the part when I was trying to sleep, in a sleeping bag outside, and was woken up once every two minutes by a live goddamned pet rooster - but this is not the point.
The point is - I rode Sleeper, my motorbike, the whole way. There and Back Again. Mitzpe-Ramon, I'll have you know, is about 70 kilometers of road away from Beer-Sheva, which is, in turn, about 130 kilometers from Tel Aviv. However, the latter 130 are rather easy, while the 70 are full of turns and twists, and unexpected crossroads, and more turns, which are really dangerous because the road descends towards the deep desert, and a beautiful but distracting view. And the occasional camel.
Sleeper was magnificent. Not a single complaint. Event when the fuel ran out. This happened a kilometer or two before Beer-Sheva, but I, having boldly turned the fuel-switch to "reserve tank", managed to squeeze them out of the faithful sleeper with, as stated above, no hard feelings.
The problem with the way back was that the abovementioned 70 now became ascending. This was no problem for Sleeper, but various cars showed a tendency to slow down and block the one-lane road. Sleeper and I, however, left them far behind.
And Sleeper rests, in his usual parking space at home, and I rest too, disturbed only by the fact that every muscle in my ass is crying like that bloody rooster, and I can hardly sit.

Today I will give a performance in a Yoga Convention.
Really! I'm even listen in the programme. 21:00.
That’s one of the greatest thing about performing with dancers - you never know where you'll get next, and you get to perform in places never visited by more conventional musicians. Unless, of course, they happen to be also Yoga bears. Or tree huggers. Or Dancers. Or Really Weird People.
It is safe to assume that most dancers will claim that it is the musicians who are the really weird people, but we, readers and writers of this journal, know better.
I think.

A special bonus to the readers of this journal:
An improvised dance accompanied by live and improvised music created on the spot by your humble servant, who happened to sit just where the camera didn't catch him. Was he lucky? Are you? Find out in this fascinating video!

So we had that Garden of Eden show in the Bat-Yam street theatre festival yesterday, which went rather well, what with my free improvised performance of "In the jungle, the mighty jungle" and the actors being dressed as trees. And just as it ended, when we were about to bow, we suddenly heard a shout: "Jungle! Go back to the jungle!"
In English, mind you.
"You jungle people! You sinners! You beasts! Go back to the jungle!"
At the beginning I thought that it was a very unique improvised street theatre, but then the shouter turned out to an old religious lady, who by that time already gained some attention from the audience and became quite red in the face.
Well, what could I do? I blew her a huge kiss in the air and went to bow with the rest of the group, to the audience’s laughter.

Poor woman. I bet that her ancestors never tasted the forbidden fruit.

Well, again it happens to me: participating in a show of which I knew nothing until this very sunday.
This one’s a short street-theatre show. As far as I know, it has no name. It is an alternative retelling of the Eden story, in which the main character is, well, The Tree.
As usual, I'm improvising the music on the spot, using merely a microphone, a loop sampler and a small FX unit. No pre-recorded stuff.
We had our first show yesterday evening, at the Bat-Yam Street-Theatre Festival. We're also performing today and tomorrow (20:30, Ben-Gurion st., Jerusalem blvd. corner, Bat Yam, if you're interested).
I like it. I could spend my life performing like this.

I've been working with - well, it’s called The BUA Dance Company, and now there’s also a web site.

I've joined a dance group.
Admit it, you who know me. Admit that you knew this was coming. For an agile, dexterous, sleeky, smooth mover like myself, it seems only a natural development.

So ok, so I'm the group’s musician.
Nitpickers.

A small car hit a larger one just under my the window of my 3rd floor basement, but that was several days ago, when thousands of people filled up the street and were really gay about it all. I enjoyed it. They enjoyed it too. The drivers refused to cooperate with the merry crowd, but that was taken care of by the police. It was JUST the place for people with funny costumes.

A weird truck is sodomizing an innocent tree (under my window, again). I think it was sent by the municipality, but I've no proof. I like the tree. I also like trucks, though, to be sure, less violent ones. What to do? I'll keep reporting.

First rehearsal, today, of the group marked "Funkapella III". It is a descendant of "F-I" and "F-II", and hopefully will live longer than they did. The recipe is simple: make a band without any musical instruments except for drums and singers. Many singers. Crazy singers. And those are hard to find. However, some of the singers auditioned today might become crazy enough, with the right treatment.

Two dances to which I composed soundtracks were performed in Jerusalem today. I wanted to go, but a sudden attack of laziness prevented me from doing it. No matter, there'll be other times.

Bats are knocking on my window. Reminder: buy a big spray-can of some sort. Works beautifully as a flamethrower.

S'it - gonna eat.