The Many and The Few

It’s Hanukkah.

I took this shot the other night. The menorah is next to the window, as is traditional, and I liked the way the flames were reflected in the window.

Tonight is the final night. I’ll light candles and think about a tiny handful of fighters who banished an entire army. Just one of the many times someone tried to wipe out the Jews. We keep bouncing back. The title of this post is also the title of a Woody Guthrie song. His mother-in-law was a well-known Jewish poet. The song is one of her poems and Woody put the words to music.

I made latkes yesterday. I only make them once a year. After I made them, I remembered why I only make them once a year. The entire house smells like a latke. To remedy that, I made a batch of chai tea. Now the house smells like cinnamon and cloves. 

My great-great-grandparents left Dittersdorf, East Prussia in 1888. They were Jewish, but arrived in New York cleverly disguised as German Lutherans. By the time my grandmother came along, the family thought they really were German Lutherans. I grew up Catholic. When I discovered my grandmother’s really bad German was actually Yiddish, I returned to my Jewish roots. 

I grew up in an insane house run by a violent, drunken narcissist and her violent, drunken husband. It was not a good way to grow up. I’d go into a depression in mid-November and the depression would last until New Year’s Day. Holidays were hell. The fighting. The screaming. The drunken bigot spewing hate. That was just the first hour. The celebration went downhill from there. I no longer celebrate Christmas. The Jewish holidays, Hanukkah and Passover, hold no baggage for me. Except this year. The flashbacks started Christmas day and continue haunting me. I thought I was done with this kind of misery. Apparently PTSD is a forever condition. It gets easier to live with, but it never goes away. I’m convinced children should be able to sue their parents who should be made to pay the never ending therapy bills.

I’ve been working on making necklaces as an antidote to psychic, seasonal misery. It’s not called art therapy for nothing. Eventually, I’ll get the necklace, featuring Swarovski crystals, pearls, Adrian opal, agate, yellow opal, onyx, African jade and gold stone, into my store, Deb Thuman Art http://www.debthumanart.com

I’ve been working on taking macro shots and still getting used to a shallow depth of field. I’m playing with color, texture, and wild editing. Eventually, I’ll be turning the photos into fabric designs. This process is taking longer than I thought. Meanwhile, my laptop is filled with wildly edited shots. 

My cookie scoop died so I bought a new one. I haven’t tested it out yet, but I did use it to take a self portrait. 

I’m linking with Nina Marie http://ninamariesayre.blogspot.com Take a look at what other artists are doing.