In the morning I took part in a Zoom conference on crowdfunding led by a woman from Shatil who seems to have mastered the art of using this effectively. Despite my cynicism regarding the various platforms that extract their pound of flesh from those who are obliged to use their services, one has to acknowledge that they tap into or shift a stream of money for good purposes. I should see what are the more ethical platforms for crowdfunding.
I spent a lot of time trying to reach tech support for that computer I was trying to fix yesterday, and restored another computer to factory condition (which means of course Microsoft Windows condition) for the new person who has been appointed to administer our educational institutions (or something like that).
I wrote to Nava suggesting that they create a historical timeline for the School for Peace, in order to avoid confusion on the part of some of our friends associations on the sequence of events there. I heard back from her quickly. She said she wanted to gift me her recent book, since it has some of what I'm looking for. I told her I'd never read any book about the village, and that reading one in Hebrew would be too much work for my few paid work hours. For the timeline I just need a simple table of what happened when.
Curating the history of a small village is a significant task. Much of it is stored in people's heads and, if one isn't careful, dies with them. Does it matter? Do any of our lives matter? It's a question of perspective. There is no unequivocal answer. They may have importance sometimes. For example, communities are intrinsically interesting because they are comparatively rare in our modern world. Many of them fail quickly. What factors are involved in their success or failure, and what can be learned from them.
Sculpture at the art gallery
On our afternoon walk we stopped by at the art gallery, to speak with Dyana who, on a mostly voluntary basis, is responsible for it. Across from the gallery entrance there is a bare rock face that the builders had sheered out when they built the library building. Today Dyana got some local sculptors to work on that rock wall. On one corner, one of them had sculpted from the soft limestone an entire Palestinian village. Really lovely. Another artist had turned a large stone into a dove and attached it to a rock. I think the real quality of artists, particularly sculptors, is to see the creative potential locked up in our humdrum reality, and liberate it. Art is hopeful in that way.