Staticmotion- disappearing landscape

It is not that I have a great Interest in Mechanic, nor a Fascination for vehicels, It is a fascination which grows out of ignorance, a bewilderment; gaping at this wonder, a huge shiny metal aircraft floating in space. I also never fully understood how a car is moving on its own. Somehow the domane of machinery, is still foreign to me, even though it is so present in life. My fascination counts also for what it is standing for: a vehiclel, a power breaking through, enforcing itself, a winner. The way it slices the atmosphere, how it overcomes a great distance, and the roll it plays in my life.
My parents, arriving in Israel sometime between 1936- 1943, in their wish to start a new page in life, they, neither felt the need to travel abroad, nor did they have the possibility to finance such a journey if they wanted to. They got very involved in the development of their new homeland, and distrusted any luxus. I did not. I envied my girlfriends who had more capitalistic families, who traveld abroad with their parents, who had a car.
To have a car was a real sign of prestige, and every father who respected himself will be seen on saturday morning washing his car with a lot of water. My father was always enraged over the wasting of precious water. Saturday, was also a family visiting day. and we, had to walk. Of´course they were also beautiful, those walks. Areas which today are completly built up used to be flower carpets. I was always in suspence, fear of meeting some kids who might know me while walking with my parents.
My life was slow and full of poesie, I can appreciate it now I couldn´t as a teenager.
Later on, at the time in which I mysteriously but definetly was turning blond, I spent two full years on the back of one motor-bike or another, to the enragement of the whole neighbourhood who got realy distressed due to gangs of young bikers who used to sworm the street especially at the holly time between 14-16 o´clock:menuchat zohoraim (siesta time).

Israel is a synonim for beautifull countryside, mellow pastel colours wonderfull light, political discussions, religion, and war. you get so used to the sight of military airplanes ; all the "Mirajes" and the "Misters", like silver arrows in the white- blue sky, the white tails they leave behind them, showing off, the ultra- schall boom is a common sound in the sky of Tel- aviv but still It always make your heart miss a bit, at least it was like that for me. The memory of war, the awaiting a war, dread and anticipation.
The six days war broke off at 1967, the yom- kipur at 1973, I was still a child, I never sufferd any loss, my memories of It is of exceitment, at last something extraordinary was happening, people were friendly to each other, the air was heavy with longing and in the radio they were playing sad and beautiful songs. Ofcourse we didn´t have a T.v at the time. At night the streets were dark, no lights on and the windows were cellotaped as a protection agains the blast in case of bombardment. From time to time the darknes was alight by colourfull signal rockets.
The egyptian radio from Kahir was giving us in hebrew to understand that their own airplanes are already fly over Tel-aviv. We were making jokes about It, but into the usuall glamour which is going hand in hand with the aircraft dimension, involved itself a new aspect: respect of the capacity of control and destruction.
I often dreamt about airplanes, sometimes they apear as intimidating great black birds or as shiny metalic in the air floating great cameras, with red lights, like all-seeing eyes. Much later police crousing helicopters over Belfast and Berlin revived my dreams of flying objects.
One great difference between my parents and me and maybe it is also a general difference between the first and the second, post- war generation of eastern european jewish people is, that my parents were not interested of leaving Israel, not even for a holliday, and I understand their reason and respect their desicion. I, was curious about everything which had to do with other continents. Growing up in a country which physically, because of the geographical - political situation, does not have open borders and also because I was not realy supposed to be interested in visiting other countries made me wish and dream of crossing borders. I used to stand at the very populated beach of Tel- Aviv, staring at the horizon,having romantic thoughts of overseas. So I did what many young people are doing after two years of obeying orders in the obligatory military service- I went traveling. I booked my first flight to europe. I never planned to stay away, and sometimes I feel that I am still doing that same journey for the last twenty years. Airports and Airplanes; Cars, trains: Metro, the Tube, U.Bahn. Velocity I distaste, it means stress, discontent, brutality, cruelty, pollution, noise, and it fascinates me- The world of reflections in car windows, through speed transformed landscapes we can see while driving fast or through a window of a high speed train, The split second in which we grasp whats relativity is about. The view of the ever sunny land beyond the clouds and the earth which is fading away, a sight which for a short while make us raise our eyes from our newspapers, and gives us for a fleeting moment a feeling of elation, a philosophical perspective, a sardonic blick at our exaturated self importance. Yet, it is only for a moment; as faster the rythem of life is becoming, I am becoming more exasperated, less incapable of stilling my longing, but I am afraid that the knowledge that It Is no use competing with time, can not stop me trying to catch up with Its speed.