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In The Table As It Is, a tabletop perched on precarious legs and precariously set with bottles of wines and glasses seems about to split apart. Dominey’s sculptures present ordinary objects found in…
The spring of 1998 was kind to the Jezreel Valley. The rain, which was heavy and late, colored the slopes of the Gilboa with bright green and spread carpets of wildflowers on them—red, purple, and…
In the spring of 1961, I flunked an exam that would have enabled me to write an honors thesis. In reality, it was a minor failure—I was spending most of my time at the Crimson building, where I was…
Not a word about Ein Harod on the official radio. All the official communiqués were broadcast. Directives to obey. Directives to obey directives. Directives prohibiting assemblies. Directives not to…
So what do storytellers do? The ones I like operate more or less like tribal witchdoctors.
Here is a little story for you. Nine thousand six hundred and six years ago, in a…