אמתע מעשׂה, אמתע מעשׂה
For the first night of Hanukkah, my mother accompanied me to None Shall Escape (1944) at the Harvard Film Archive. It snowed into the late afternoon, silver-dusting the unsanded streets. The wind chill feels like zero Fahrenheit. ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch and I lit the first night's candle for strength.
spatch and I lit the first night's candle for strength.
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Thank you! My mother was blown away by it and requested an internet copy to share with family and friends. The audience was entirely silent afterward and she thought they might have been shell-shocked. (She also thought your cousin did an amazing job.)
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*hugs*
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Is your mother okay?!
I am glad it was screened and that people got to experience it and that you had Yiddish comic improvisation to come home to. Time feels increasingly squashed and when I reach into my brain for liturgy all I come up with, to the exclusion of benching gomel or one’s vidui or even the sh’ma, is Borei yom v’lailah, the days and nights are Yours, because at least that’s a bar to clear, a division of time.
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She is! She was amazed that it had existed all this time, but not hurt by it. She thought it important and she's right. (She would show it to a lot of people.)
Time feels increasingly squashed and when I reach into my brain for liturgy all I come up with, to the exclusion of benching gomel or one’s vidui or even the sh’ma, is Borei yom v’lailah, the days and nights are Yours, because at least that’s a bar to clear, a division of time.
*hugs*
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Thank you.
*hugs*
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*hugs*
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Thank you!
*hugs*